


Various Storms and Saints

by timelesshour



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Detective Castiel, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Murder Mystery, Oral Sex, Prostitute Dean Winchester, Prostitution, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelesshour/pseuds/timelesshour
Summary: Castiel moves across life counting the days and trying to make breathing a bit easier, until he meets a prostitute named Dean.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!!  
> This story was born as I was listening to various storms and saints by Florence and the Machine. I hope you enjoy it!! I am really excited to write this one.  
> I will add more tags as I go along.

The first time Castiel sees Dean is on a Tuesday. He is on the ground floor talking with Jody, when Garth and Donna walk in with Leah, a usual occupant of the cells for prostitution, and a tall, light brown hair man. Castiel can't tell if it is his first time being arrested, though he carries himself with an air of defiance and almost relaxation, but not annoyance. As if it was an everyday thing, being arrested and he knew the ins and outs of this place. He was wearing a black shirt with a flannel on top, blue jeans and well-worn combat boots. Castiel guesses that he too, is a prostitute.  
He was attractive, his features had a delicate twist in them, while having a sharpness in them, maybe from time. Castiel guesses he is being poetic because of his sleepless state. Suddenly one of the eyes closes and Castiel realizes that the man winked at him and that he had been staring at him for some time. He mentally shakes himself and turns to Jody who is looking at him expectantly, with raised eyebrows.

“I’ve never seen him before” She says after a few seconds and Castiel nods, he had a suspicion that the man was way too careful, well not too careful, everybody slips at some point.

“Thank you, for the information and help on the Walker case” He says instead.

“Hey, no need to thank me. Just doing my job.” Jody responds with a smile, that Castiel returns albeit not as big and a little tight, exhaustion both physical and emotional, starts to weigh on him from the time spent going through the case these past few days.

“Have a good night Castiel” She replies as if sensing his fatigue.

“You too. I’ll see you tomorrow”. He says turning around, going to the elevator. When inside he lets out sigh, feeling the muscles on his back ache. He had stayed up for the last two days trying to locate Gordon Walker, who had kidnapped and killed a girl.

He reaches the third floor where the homicides and drug enforcement departments were. The floor is mostly empty apart from a few people who are gathering their stuff or working. He walks towards his office, seeing Hannah still at her desk writing, probably her report.

“You can go home”. He tells her stopping outside of his office door almost across from her desk. She looks up giving him a small tired smile.

“It’s alright. I am just finishing up, Inias left a little while ago, his report is on your desk.”  
He nods, not having enough energy to talk and walks inside. He sees Inias’ report and contemplates staying to read through it, but decides against it, it would take him twice the time and he could do it in the morning. Instead, he takes his trench coat from the coat stand and puts it on, taking his car keys, from atop of the desk and walks back out.

“Good night” He says to Hannah. “Don't stay past midnight” He indicates at the clock on the wall that shows almost five minutes to midnight.

“Ok, Castiel” She answers with a slight shake of her head and a tone that indicates that she would in fact stay.

“There is no need, Hannah”

“I know. I just…need to finish this”

“I understand” And he does.

It was a particularly messy case and had left all of them with an unsettling feeling and a weigh in their chests. The girl was young, in her late teen years. They had located where Gordon had taken her but arrived not even half an hour after he had killed her. And the fact that Gordon was an officer, complicated things further, not that they knew him, he had been transferred from Louisiana not even four months ago. But still cases like this always unnerved them. It reminded Castiel that everyone was capable of everything, not matter where they claimed they stood, and that scared him.

He walks into the elevator, pressing the button to the garage. His shoulders dropping and he rests the back of his head against the elevator wall, closing his eyes. He exhales through his nose rather roughly. He pulls his already loosened tie from around his neck and holds it in his right hand tightly. Sometimes he wonders what exactly it is that he does. People still do bad things even after years of social evolution and they will continue to do so in the years to come. Still he liked to humour himself into believing that people are, in fact good or given the chance they will do good. History still refute him.

“I’m a fool” He whispers. “A fool that still believes”

He gets to his car and drives to his house in those twenty minutes that tonight seem like hours.

He parks the car in the garage and gets in the house, using the door that joins the garage with the rest of the house. He has yet to get used to living there and sometimes he misses his apartment, not that he considered it any more of a home than he does this one, but it was small and he didn't feel as lonely as he does in this one. He goes to the kitchen and drinks a glass of water, and then another half and heads upstairs to his bedroom.

He sees Carmen laying on the end of the bed, who opens her green eyes and looks at him for a few seconds and goes back to sleep. He shakes his head with fondness at her and strips of his clothes. He stands wearing just his boxer briefs, contemplating whether to shower or not. In the end his exhaustion wins and decides to shower in the morning. He brushes his teeth on the joined bathroom and then wears his t shirt for sleep and goes to bed. He registers Carmen moving, going under the covers and laying her head on his calf before sleep takes him.

 

X

 

Dean has been arrested before, not for prostitution though, for shoplifting when he was fourteen. And though he has always been careful, that afternoon he was frustrated and hungry and Sam wasn’t patient either, not that eight-year olds are when they are hungry, and all they have been eating for the past four days is cereal. All this made him careless in his actions. The owner caught him and called the cops, who took him to the station and called John, who after paying bail, made sure Dean understood how much careful he needed to be and that money wasn't for him to use for his malfeasances.

Now though, Dean didn't have Sam to worry about. Well, that was a lie, he was always worried about Sam. But Sam was good. Better than him, and Dean avoided thinking about the now-Sam. It hurt, for way too many reasons.

He spends the night in a sell, not in the same one as Leah, thank god, but with some other men who where either high or drunk or pocket thieves. When an officer finally tells him, he can go, he gives him a winning smile and feels a little disappointed that it’s not officer Hanscum. He liked the vivacious but firm woman from last night. He gathers his stuff from the front desk and walks out. He wonders idly, about the man from last night and his rumbled clothes but put together expression and body language.

He remembers when he felt eyes on him, something that he was used to, but not in that manner. When he had looked up and seen the man that was looking at him, he felt like the guy was seeing right through him, it made the hair at the back of his neck stand. He shook his head. And started to walk towards the bus station a few meters away from the station. He checks for the buses on the screen, he has to wait for eleven minutes for the next bus.

He looks around and sees a coffee shop across the street, and decides he needs coffee and food, even if it will cost him a little more. Besides, today he has this one john that pays triple for a full night.

He gets in and an obnoxious ding sounds, and Dean fights to not roll his eyes. He gets in the line, where two people are in front of him, and glances around. The walls are white and dark brown tables that almost seem scattered around with mismatching chairs cover most of the space. There are large windows looking at the street, were most of the light comes from. Dean has to admit it is not so bad. Not that he will be coming back. It too fancy for him.  
He moves in the front and comes face to face with a blonde guy and blue eyes, who gives him a lazy smile. His tag writes Benny.

“What can I get you?” He says with a bit of an accent. Dean guesses it’s Cajun.

“Um, black coffee and a sandwich…” he looks up at the black board that has the menu and yep it’s above his pay grade. “plain. Small coffee” He adds with a smile, which is a little forced.

“Coming right up.” He says, the smile not leaving his face and there is something else in his eyes, that Dean can’t tell what it is. “That will be 4.10, please”

Dean reaches for his wallet and gives him a five-dollar bill and takes the receipt and change from Benny. He goes and waits in the corner, like he saw the other people do. He sees a bald guy with a beard, coming around the corner with a tray, and as he heads towards the coffee machine, he says something to Benny and they both laugh.  
After a few seconds Benny hands him his sandwich and his coffee, Dean thanks him and turns around to leave, but sees the bar table on his right and mentally shrugs. He sits in one of the bar stools and sets his coffee and sandwich, with cheese, ham and tomato, on the table. He eats his sandwich, while observing the people outside through the window.

After a few minutes, he hears a song coming through the speakers in the shop and now Dean does roll his eyes. After a little bit though he has to admit it’s not a bad song, not his liking, but not bad. He notes there are a lot of officers that come in the shop, and that they are acquainted with Benny and the other guy. He guesses it’s normal as this seems to be the only one on the street and directly opposite of the station.

After he is done eating, he throws the wrapper on the trash bin, and takes his coffee and leaves the shop. He thinks about taking the bus, but dismisses the idea, and decides to walk. Besides it is a beautiful day and he had spent the entire night in a sell, even if it will take him about forty minutes to get to his apartment complex. He almost laughs at that, he hates his apartment and usually dreads going there. But it is better than nothing and probably better than almost all the other places he has ever lived.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

If there is one thing Dean will never admit, is enjoying the library. In the beginning he just went there because he had nowhere to go, and he needed to protect himself from the cold and rain or occasional snow. Now, he goes because he enjoys it. He always liked to read, and it is quiet in the library, people don't pay much attention to him. Everyone is there for their own purpose. It is peaceful. There is a sense of solitude, almost like the outside world can’t touch him. Sometimes he starts conversations with the people around him and it makes him feel a little like he belongs. Almost feels like he is normal.

Dean never had that, but if there is a one thing he is good at, is pretending. Growing up he had always been the odd one out, the kid that moved around a lot, with different tastes, and the smart kid brother. He told himself it didn't bother him, that Sam was smart, smarter than him, and he was, is amazing, so it was only natural that others would point it out. That it was ok, if the kids and occasional teachers would just side-line him. He was just Dean. And he came last. Until he realised, albeit a little unconsciously, that if you side-line yourself, if you make yourself the ‘out’ then people would notice you, even for a brief moment, they would. And that they wouldn't have high expectations of you. It didn't matter if you fulfilled them or not. And so, it went, until it reached a point where it didn't hurt as much and then hurt turned into a numbness. Or so Dean thought, as far as no none touched him.

It’s not like he wanted people to see him, he got past that point a long time ago. He didn't want people to know who he really was, what he really wanted from others and from himself. He didn't let himself think about those things anymore. Things he wanted to try and be. Things that he was but never found the voice to say. Or the voice was stolen from him, in the name of something bigger. Until it reached a point where Dean, stopped trying to really connect with others. That way he didn't have to excessively hide himself, and when sometimes he slipped, and people saw a glimpse of who he was he withdrew completely. Because Deans’ greatest fear is people seeing him. Seeing through him. Thus, he had resigned himself to solitude. He didn't have friends, only a few people who knew him by name and a couple of words, and most of them didn’t even know his real name, not that with what he was he would give that away.

But in the library, it was a different story, he was just Dean, a twenty-something guy, who read books and was somehow pleasant. He was content with how things were in there. It is why he spends most of his time in that place.

That Friday while he is leaving, he stops to read the pin board that is next to the entrance, like he does every time. He finds it useful, it has a lot of interesting things, about events, talks or gigs and stuff like that. It is how he gets informed about most of the things he does, which are almost all the interesting free stuff. A blue leaflet catches his eye. It says “Clinic for all”. He raises his eyebrows and moves a little closer, touching the edge of the leaflet with his right hand.

“There is a stack of those here” A voice says on his right startling him. He turns his head and sees Alfie standing behind the counter, looking a little awkward and maybe a little terrified. “If you want one” He adds hurriedly.

“Sure” Dean says nodding. And goes at the counter to take one. “Where is Lily today?” he asks.

He didn't see the redhead today, and even though he feels a little intimidated around her, he kind of missed her usual salute, with the “not loud noises in here” she always says, to everyone passing through the door.

“She is sick” Alfie says and Dean nods again.

“I’ll see you around” he adds as he leaves, closing the door behind him and not waiting for an answer. He stops, after he goes down the steps, and reads the leaflet.

It is about a free, walk-in sexual health clinic, that is open every Wednesday and Saturday and it is run by Dr Rowena MacLeod and Dr Missouri Moseley. It says at the bottom that they provide all methods of contraception, as well as screening, diagnosis and treatment for all STDs.

Dean folds it in half and puts in the back pocket of his jeans. The clinic is near the library, two streets over. Maybe he will go tomorrow. He is a little wary though. Its not the first free clinic and the one he visited before, wasn't so open to people like him. In sort they refused to waste their money and effort on him and kicked him out. He doesn’t feel bad about what he does, it’s what keeps him fed. And sometimes he wishes people would see it that way as well. He sighs and walks at the direction of his apartment, there is a soft breeze in the air, September is almost a week away and he kind of breads it. He thinks about the colder days and how there is nothing but four walls protecting him from it and a pathetic excuse of a heater, that last year worked for only three weeks. He’ll make do.

 

X

 

It is a slow day. Castiel doesn't particularly mind slow days and he usually isn’t even at the office on Saturdays, just on call. Today though, he had to review some of the files about the Walker case with the DA, as the court is on Monday. And it is one of the most boring and tiring things he ever had to do.

He doesn't do well with people, he is only really good with them on the interrogation room. It is also where he feels most confident when talking with others. Otherwise he is rather blunt and social setting trouble him, especially with people he doesn't know. And the fact that the DA is Arthur Ketch, doesn't help matters either. Not that if it was anyone else he would feel better, to be honest. After the events of three years ago, he would hate anyone who took the position of DA.  
He sighs, for probably the hundred time today and looks at the clock on the wall of the conference room, it’s almost two. He should probably go grab something to eat.

“Are we done?” He asks trying, and probably failing, to not look exasperated. “Everything is in the report, that we have gone over about fifty times now”

“I know this is not how you want to spend the day Castiel, but I want it to be perfect” Arthur says flashing him one of those smiles. I’m-an-asshole-I-know-better-than-anyone-smiles, as Hannah calls them.

“I know. But I am fairly sure it is perfect” He says sitting a little straighter in his chair.

“Would you like to have lunch?” Castiel suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

“No, thank you.” He simply says, with no emotion.

“You know” Arthur continues unfazed, leaning back on his chair. “you should socialise more.” Castiel almost bristles at that “You don't come to the Christmas parties anymore. And I know it’s because of what happened, but isol-”

“I think I’m going to go now.” Castiel cuts him of standing up. “I’ll see you in the court on Monday” He adds as he wears his trench coat.

“Come on, Castiel. I don't mean any harm” And Castiel really hates him right now. He turns and goes to the door, opening it and pausing slightly to say “Goodbye, Arthur”, before he slams it shut. He breaths through his nose to calm himself, and heads to the elevator. He hates the conference rooms they have. They make him nervous.

He goes in the elevator, smiling politely at the people already inside, and presses the button for the parking lot. When he reaches the floor, he gets out and heads for his car. He is about to get in when he hears Anna call his name. He looks up and sees her walking towards him, she stops on the other side of the car smiling softly at him.

“How are you?” She asks and Castiel returns her smile, some of his irritation from before leaving him.

“I’ve been better” She nods at him, with a sort of understanding in her eyes.

“I saw Arthur one the hallway before I left” She explains “You going for lunch?” when Castiel nods she continues “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all” he replies with a small laugh “Though I don't know where I’ll go”

“That's fine, I went with Gadreel on this pizza place last Sunday, it was great. Want to go there?”

“Sure. Lead the way”

Anna gives him a big smile and walks to her car, parked a few spaces away. He gets in his and pulls out, waiting for Anna to go in front of him and follows her out of the parking lot and into the street.  
They drive for about fifteen minutes, until Anna pulls into a space in front of a place called “Giovanni’s Pizza”. Castiel parks as well and gets out, going to stand next to Anna.

“Here it is” she says and motions for him to follow her in.

It is nice and cosy, the smell of pizza is in the air and Castiel’s mouth waters, he really should have eaten breakfast this morning. It’s quite busy but they find a table to sit in the far corner. A waiter comes and serves them water, saying he’ll be back in a few minutes to take their order. Castiel scans his menu and he is surprised by the prices, he would expect it to be way more expensive, judging by the atmosphere.

“I know what you are thinking” Anna says and he looks up at her. “We were surprised too, but I guess it is because it’s downtown and they want to attract more people.” She shrugs at this and continues “Want to get an eight-slice special?”

“Yes, though without olives”

After they order, a comfortable silence falls between them. It’s what Castiel enjoys most when he is with Anna, that they don't feel the need to fill in the pauses, that somehow, they still communicate. It is what made them a good team. Castiel joined her team in the drug enforcement, almost seven years ago. He was young and his overall personality seemed to put people off, but Anna liked him and as she often said he was one of the best people she had ever worked with.  
After four years with her, they offered him the position of detective in the homicide department and though he really liked working with her, he found that the that department suited him more.

“So” Anna says after, the waiter brings their pizza. “how are you? Really”

Castiel takes a breath. “Ok, I guess. I mean, I feel better. I am doing better. But sometimes… certain situations just bring back bad memories”  
Anna nods understanding and sympathy clear in her face. “Hey, you have gone a long way. If it was someone else, they might have left the force all together. And you are better, you look better”

“But?” He asks taking a bite of his slice.

“Well, maybe you can try… you know, to see someone” She says tentatively.

“Oh, you have been talking to Gabriel about this” He responds with a frown.

“We both want the best for you and I am his friend, it’s natural for him to talk to me about what’s troubling him”

“I’m sorry” He sighs a little, looking down at his plate. “It’s just no one… I still feel like… I don't know, I’m working on it. It is why I go to Crowley every week” He says the last part with a fake annoyance and Anna laughs a little.

“Don't act like you don't like it.” He raises his eyebrows at that. “I know it wasn't easy in the beginning, and you hated both Gabriel and me, but now I know you actually like going there now and it has helped.”

And Castiel can only agree with her. It is true that if it wasn't for her and his brother, pushing him to start seeing Crowley after what happened, he wouldn't be ok now or as ok he is. Even if psychotherapy is probably the most difficult thing he ever had to do.

He looks up at her and sees behind her a man who is looking at him and reminds Castiel of someone, but he cannot tell from where or who he is. He is beautiful and has really green eyes, that seem to study Castiel. Then, he remembers. He is the guy Donna arrested a couple of weeks back. The realisation seems to show on his face, because the man goes completely still for a couple of seconds, before he gets up and leaves a few notes on the table, then turns around and leaves.  
Castiel blinks a couple of times and feels like he is in a trance, he registers Anna looking behind her. “What?” she asks looking back at him.

“Nothing I… it’s nothing” he replays shaking his head slightly, as if to clear it and goes back to eating.

 

X

 

The first thing Dean notices when he enters the clinic is how clean it looks. It makes him feel a little weird. There is soft music playing in what he assumes is the waiting room, that has a counter and some comfortable looking chairs and some plants. There is a woman sitting in one of the chairs, reading a magazine.  
After standing in front of the door a little awkwardly, he sits on a chair and places his hands on his knees. He sees some magazines on the table in front of him, but he doesn't think he is able to read anything right now.

“Nervous?” he almost jumps when he hears the woman’s voice and he turns to look at her. She chuckles and smiles at him.

“A little” he replies.

“Don't be. I know Dr Moseley and she is really nice and open woman”

Dean just nods and bites his lower lip. All he can think about is how he should probably leave. He knows he should have himself checked, but it would save everyone the trouble from having to kick him out, if he just left.

“She lives next door with her family and I think its really sweet she decided to do something like that, with Dr MacLeod of course. Everybody should have the opportunity to go to the doctor, especially when it comes to matters of sexual health…”

Dean tunes her out and checks a little bit of the room. On the counter there is a clear bowl and a sign above says “Don't leave without taking”, he realises it contains condoms. Maybe he should just take a few and leave. Yeah, that's what he should do, right about now, though he can’t seem to be able to move. Then, the door on the left of the counter opens and a woman comes out.

“Oh” She says smiling. “Mrs Clarke, what a pleasant surprise”

“Hello, Doctor” The woman says, her smile never leaving her face. It kind of freaks Dean out, in fact everything right now freak Dean out.

“And you young man” Dr Moseley says. “Good afternoon. Dr MacLeod will be with you shortly”  
She gestures to the other woman and she gets up to follow her, as Mrs Clarke disappear behind the door, Dr Moseley turns to Dean and says. “There’s no need to be nervous, dear”

And all Dean can do is nod. She sighs a little and leaves, closing the door behind her. And suddenly Dean is alone with the music and the magazines and condoms and he feels panicked and calm at the same time. And he is not even sure that's possible.  
After a few seconds or minutes, Dean can’t tell, the door opens again and a girl comes out looking a little troubled, followed by a woman wearing a doctor’s robe. Dean guesses she is Dr MacLeod.

“I will see you next week, Emily. And you don't need to worry about anything.” She says facing the girl and putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Everything is going to be ok”

The girl nods “Ok. Thank you very much”

“It’s nothing, dear” The girl turns and heads out, giving Dean a small smile.

“And who you might be?”

Dean swallows. “Dean” he says, his voice a little rough.

“Well. Dean, come on in” She says turning on her heels and opens the door slipping through it.

Dean hastily gets up and follows her through the door. It leads to a hallway with a lot of doors and on the other end of it there are double doors. He sees her turn on a room on his right and follows her in. It is a standard examination room, with a bed and all. It is also white. What’s up with all the white? His palms are a little sweaty. He sits on the bed and Dr MacLeod turns to him with smiles. She rather beautiful, Dean things idly through all the haze in his brain.

“Is this your first time in a clinic like this?” She asks and there is a knowing look in her eyes.

“Uh, no. It’s the second”

“Then you should know you shouldn’t be nervous” She says moving closer and sitting on a chair in front of him.

“Actually Doc, it wasn't a nice experience the first time.” He says rubbing his hands on his knees.

“It is Rowena” She says and frowns “How so?”

“Well, uh, see…. I, uh” He shakes his head and looks down. “There is no way beating around it” He takes a big breath and looks into her eyes. “I am a worker”

She looks at him questioningly for a few seconds, until it clears and her green eyes momentarily widen. She quickly composes herself though.

“And the other clinic, they didn't take it very well?” She asks a little slowly.

“They kicked me out” He answers with a small shrug.

“Stultus populus” She says angrily.

“I’m sorry, what?” He is a little alarmed now.

“Nothing, just people are stupid.” She shakes her head disapprovingly. “Would you like full check-up?” She asks with a kind smile, probably the kindest Dean has received in, who knows how long. For a moment he doesn't know what to say. He clears his throat and smiles back at her.

“Sure”


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Castiel notices when he arrives at the hotel room is how good it smells. He usually doesn't like the way hotels smell, it is pleasant, but it reminds him of something plastic, fake. This one though, has a pleasant smell of lavender. He goes further into the room and sees Inias by the balcony door talking to a woman that works at the hotel, judging by her uniform. He turns on his left and sees the bed, where a man that can’t be older than twenty-five lays with the sheets drown up to his chest. He almost looks like he is sleeping, but the colour of his face clearly states that he is dead. He sees Hannah taking pictures and he moves closer to the body. He is fully clothed, Castiel remarks. Something about the way that he is positioned though unsettles him, and he squints titling his head to the side and looking at the man’s face, as if it holds the answer to what happened. It usually does.

“Do we have a name?” he asks without looking up.

“No” Hannah responds and walks to stand next to him. “No form of identification on him” she sighs softly and continues. “The room wasn't booked. It was going to be occupied today, the cleaning staff found him. Also, nobody saw him going up.”

Castiel looks up at her, his face clear. “He wasn't killed here”

She raises her eyebrows at him. “Wouldn't have somebody seen someone carrying a body?”

“Perhaps. But he wasn't killed in this room.” He says with verdict. He moves around a little, seeing the room. It is a standard hotel room. It has a painting of a field at the opposite wall from bed. Castiel stares at it.

“Anything else?” He asks after a minute or two.

“No” Hannah responds turning the camera off. “Inias went downstairs to question the receptionists from last night”

Castiel nods and smiles softly at her. “Alright then, let’s go”

They leave the room, saying goodbye at the officers by the door and get into the elevator. Castiel presses the button from the ground floor.

“This is the forth floor” Hannah says taking the camera off from around her neck.

“Somebody must have seen them.” Castiel laughs a little at that.

“Not if they pretended he was still alive”

“Like drunk and passed out”

“Yeah” He responds and they get off.

“You came here with Inias?” He asks her as they head towards the doors.

“Yes, do you want me to stay?”

“No need. Just text him you are going with me to the station and he should get the car”

“Good, because we arrived with his and you know how he gets” She says shaking her head and smiling. Castiel just huffs a laugh and gets into the car.

It is around two when Castiel finally gets a message from Billie telling him, she has finished with the autopsy. Finally, something. They still haven’t heard a word from Charlie on who the guy is, so they just sit around waiting and going through the security cameras from the hotel.

Castiel runs his hand through his hair, messing it more and gets up from his chair and out of his office. He sees Hannah typing something on her computer and Inias re-watching the video tapes.

“I am going to see what Billie found” he tells them and heads to the elevator, without waiting for a response.

The morgue is on the second floor along with the other labs. It is a very quiet floor in comparison to all the others in the building, maybe apart from the last, where the Chiefs office is. When he reaches the floor, he goes straight to Billie’s office.

He sees her sitting at her desk writing something.

“Hello, doctor” He gives her a small smile. She looks up returning his smile and puts her pen down.

“Hello, Castiel. You are here for the young man.” She says it almost like a question and gets up from her desk heading for the autopsy table, where the guy lays naked with a sheet covering most of his body. Castiel follows her and stands at the other side of the table.

“Well, I can tell you one thing. It was definitely planned.” She looks at him with raised eyebrows.

“But let’s start from the beginning. He ate three hours before his death and he had sex, penetrated sex, around that time as well. I am guessing after he ate. Then he was drugged, using desflurane, a highly anaesthetic drug. The person that did it used a rag soaked in it. You can see it by the irritation around his nose.” She says and with her hand indicates at the area. “Then, using an injection, on his right arm” She again shows Castiel the spot. “which was a solution of pentobarbital, killed him.” She sighs and shakes her head looking at Castiel. He swallows and tilts his head slightly to the side.

“Anything else?” Castiel asks, no matter how often he is here, it doesn't get easier.

“Yeah, I think. In fact, I am almost certain, that he is a sex worker.” Castiel raises his eyebrows in question.

“I’ve seen him around down town, where I volunteer for the homeless, and I have a friend that gives condoms, and she gives prostitutes whole packages whenever she can” Castiel nods at that and she continues.  
“He spent a lot of time exposed to high and low temperatures, without any proper protection and he was malnourished”

Castiel examines him and his gaze lingers on his hands. Rough, battered not from work but from poor living conditions.

“He was homeless” Castiel says quietly.

“Yes, and he reminds me of the other man that was found about six months ago, even though their death was different, body condition is similar”

Castiel exhales roughly from his nose. “A lot of trouble to kill a prostitute. I mean, if it was just because he had seen or heard something, a bullet would have done it.”

“You think it’s personal?”

“Possibly” Castiel says shrugging.

“Do you have a name?” she asks carefully, like she didn't want to disturb either him or the man lying on the table, Castiel wasn't sure.

“No, nothing.” He says a grimly. “Charlie is looking into it”

“Well, for what is worth, pentobarbital is used to anesthetize or euthanize animals”

“A veterinarian?” he says sceptically. “Thank you, Billie.” he adds and turns to leave.

“You’re welcome, detective”  
  
Castiel thinks about heading to Charlies’ lab to see if she has found something, but he knows that if the redhead had found anything she would call. He gets to the elevator just before the doors close. He looks up and sees Victor, pressing the button for the doors to reopen.

“Castiel. How are you?” He asks giving him a polite smile.

“Could be better.” Castiel responds resting his back at the elevator wall.

“Homicides, been tiring you?” Victor says with a teasing smile.

“Not the way most think” Castiel responds and Victor huffs a laugh at that.

“It’s not for everyone. But, you like it” he says seriously, with that tone he uses when he wants to get something through to other people.

“I do. It’s just, sometimes it feels like it never stops” He says just as they reached their floor.

“I know what you mean” He tells him and as he turns to leave he adds “Whatever you need you know I’m here”

“I know, thank you” Castiel responds giving him a nod.

He watches him leave and turns to go to his office. He likes Victor, he taught him a lot from when Castiel was working with him and Anna. He was a reliable and honest person, something Castiel appreciated. Though mostly he respected him for his work ethic.

He sees Charlie outside his door and raises his eyebrows and she smiles widely at him.

“You got something?” He asks her hopefully.

“You know I do” she says turning and going over at the screen on the right opposite from Inias and Hannah’s desks, turning it on. The image of the man shows on the screen along with other information.

“Name is Peter Alden, age twenty-six. According to the records he left home about a year ago, his sister reported him missing. He is from Roanoke, Virginia.”

“That's quite a distance” Inias says and everyone nods in agreement.

“His dad is dead and his mum still lives in Roanoke, she has been in and out of rehab for years” Charlie adds with a sad expression.

Castiel purses his lips in a tight line. “Hannah, please contact his family” he says and swallows. “He was a sex worker, which means he would hang around at the area we are going to go there tonight to ask around”

 

X

 

Dean doesn't like hanging around the main streets of the _area_ , he only does so, when he is running low on cash, which hasn't happened in a while. He usually waits at the various diners around it. Besides those who look, know where to find him. He particularly likes one diner that is an all-American classic, that has amazing burgers for it’s price.

He sits at a both that looks to the street and nurses a cup of coffee for sometime now. He doesn't feel like working, though he knows he should, the money from the regular on Wednesdays, though well, aren’t enough.

He drums his fingers on the table and looks out the street. It unsettles something in him. He sees Cindy getting in a car and thinks how weird it all is. He feels like he is watching a movie. One of those that is neither good or bad, it is just a null set of pictures. He blinks a couple of times to clear his head. He hears someone clearing their throat on his left and he turns his head to look at them. His eyes momentarily widen. It is the guy from the police station and pizza place, that apparently own only one set of clothing. Or all his clothes are the same. He raises his eyes expectantly.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks in a deeper voice than Dean expected and moves to sit anyway without a response.

“Sure” he responds sarcastically “What can I help you with?” he plasters a fake smile on his face, he doubts the guy is here for the same reason everyone else seats opposite of Dean.

“I’m detective Novak” he says with an even voice, showing him his badge. His eyes seem to bore into Deans, and he resists the urge to folds his hands in front of his chest.

“What can I do for you?” he shifts slightly in his seat, trying in vain to get comfortable.

“What’s your name?” he asks him instead, titling his head slightly. Dean runs his tongue over his lips.

“Tom”

“That's not your real name” Novak says after a beat, squinting at him. He is looking at Dean like he is trying to read his soul. It kind of creeps him out.

“No” There is no point in lying, Dean knows. For a few moments neither of them says anything, they just study each other. He has really blue eyes, Dean notes, and almost scoffs.

“Well” Novak starts eventually “I just wanted to asks if you know this man” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a photograph, placing it in front of Dean.

He picks it up tentatively. It is a guy that appears to be a little younger than Dean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, he is smiling at the camera. The smile reaches his eyes, there is a girl standing next to him, smiling just as wide as him.

“He used to work here” Novak provides pointedly. As if Dean hadn’t realised. There is a reason he is asking him of all people.

The photo isn’t recent. If it was, the guy wouldn't be smiling like that. No one with that smile walks around those streets.

“The photo is old” he says finally looking at the man in front of him. Novak raises his eyebrows a little, but other than that his face remains stoic.

“Yes, it was taken a couple of years ago”

“Is he… missing?” Dean asks narrowing his eyes slightly in question.

“No” Novak says taking a breath, and Dean knows what follows. “He was found dead this morning”

Dean places the photograph down.

“And what do you want from me?”

“Just to see if you knew him or seen him yesterday around here” He says simply, with a bit of hope in his voice. Dean shakes his head slightly.

“Sorry, but I’ve never seen him before” And even if he had, Dean wouldn't remember. He keeps to himself, doesn’t interact. He knows a couple of names, maybe about a dozen faces, but that's it. He learned a long time ago, that in order to survive around here, he needed a wall between him and everyone else.

Novak nods and presses his lips together in a tight line.

“You said the photograph is old” He tells him, narrowing his eye slightly. Dean huffs a laugh.

“It’s the smile” He says and he really doesn't want to elaborate.

“What about it?” Novak asks looking confused and glancing at the photograph.

“It’s” Dean stops and exhales. “People here don't have that kind of smile”

“You mean… genuine” he says like his tasting the words rather than speaking them.

“I mean that happy” Dean says and he really doesn't know why he is saying all that. It not like Novak cares, not really. It’s like those people giving money to the homeless and then going to their beds at night feeling like they did something.

Something in Novak’s eyes pass, but Dean can’t tell what it is. He shifts slightly in his seat and takes the photograph and puts it back in his pocket.

“You know” He says slowly. “I do care” And Dean eyes widen, did he say it out loud?

“I can see it in your eyes” he says with a small smile. Right, just peachy. Dean feels annoyed.

“Ok” he says dragging the word and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I lost someone and I know what it’s like” He says quietly.

“Yeah, its not therapy hour.” Dean says with a tight smile.

“I know” He says and looks out the window. And Dean concludes that this guy is probably one of the weirdest people he has ever met. He turns to look at him again and Dean raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“You know, Tom” Dean rolls his eyes at that, but it is more in amusement.  
“People aren’t that bad”

And what the hell is that suppose to mean?

Novak stands up and looks at his eyes like he is trying to convey something. And Dean feels like he has no idea what’s going on. The whole atmosphere has changed. Its like something passes between but he doesn't know what it is or how to stop it. He feels his hands loosen and they unfold completely, dropping at his side.

“Have a nice evening” Novak says and begins to walk towards the exit, and Dean just nods, a little confused.

“Dean” he blurts, and he doesn't know why. He turns in his seat and looks at him. Novak turns as well and stares at him for a few seconds.

“Castiel”


	4. Chapter 4

“How are you Castiel?” Crowley asks tapping his pen on the notebook that rests on his lap.

“I am fine” He says a little too fast. His eyes dart around the room. It hasn't changed much in the two years he has been coming here. The decoration is the same, the bookcase is the same, the furniture, the way Crowley sits in his chair. Yet, it feels different.

In the beginning it was just an office of a man, that Castiel wasn't sure he liked and in the first three weeks he didn't go along with that much. But slowly it became a place where he could open up, a familiar place that he enjoyed coming back to. Even if at times it was really difficult to come to or stay or talk.

Crowley raises his eyebrows in question and Castiel shifts slightly in his seat. He really likes the chairs in this place, they are very comfortable. But now he feels stiff and restless, like the stair is made of concrete.

“Really I am fine.” Castiel insists. He tilts his head towards the ceiling and breaths. He doesn't know what to say. No, he doesn't know how to say what has been going on in his head. It’s mostly a chaos of images. His thoughts aren’t formed enough to make sense. Not that it really matters, he has learnt that even when he voices just thoughts, that don't make any sense, Crowley understands. And that's his job, he supposes.

It’s just he doesn't understanding why he is thinking about it so much.

“We are working on a case” He finally starts and he is still looking at the ceiling. “A man died last week. He was a sex worker.” He pauses.

“Mhm” Crowley says and Castiel knows this is him encouraging him to continue.

“We went to ask around if anyone had seen anything, and there was a man that was sitting at a diner and I recognised him from seeing him at the station. He was arrested in August for prostitution. And then I saw him again at a pizza place I went with Anna” He says with one breath and a little too fast. He hears Crowley writing something.

“And?”

“I went to talk to him.” Castiel sighs and intertwines his fingers. “And… I don't know. I mean it wasn't…” he finally looks at Crowley. He notes his slightly pleased and amused expression and he rolls his eyes. “I just” he begins again with emphasis. “I wanted to talk to him. More.” He felt relaxed with Dean, something he hadn’t felt in a while with strangers. And he found himself wanting to know more about him. But he didn't let his thoughts go far, whenever he did it was like an ice bucket thrown at him and he stopped thinking about it.

“But?”

Castiel says softly. “He didn't seem to want to converse” and after a pause “with anyone”

“Did he seem lonely?” Crowley asks noting something on his notebook. Castiel looks at his feet, bringing the image of those green eyes in his mind.

“Yes” Then he looks at Crowley a little defensively “But that is not why I wanted to talk to him. I noticed after I started talking to him” he felt like he was lying and he had no idea to whom or why.

“Don't get your panties in a twist” he responds, sounding nonchalant and shaking his head. “It’s good to get to know new people” he adds with a tone that Castiel knows all too well and in response he pulls a face.

“You know how this works Castiel” Crowley continues smiling at him. “Anyway. Is he hot?”

His eyes widen and he feels a sudden panic raise in his chest. He looks at Crowley like he has grown three heads. He in return looks back at him patiently, like he is waiting for Castiel to get over it.

“I suppose” he answers eventually, voice a little strained.

“You suppose?” Castiel sighs a little annoyed.

“He is attractive.” He says evenly, and he is proud of himself. “But I don't understand what this has to do with anything”

“It has to do with everything” Crowley says seriously. “Castiel, it is beyond time you moved on. And you know that”  

Castiel feels the need to get up and start pacing around the room, at least he doesn't want to flee. It’s not like there is a point in fleeing, he will always find himself in front of himself. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. He wills himself to calm.

“It’s time to take the next step. Get yourself fully out of the house. I know you are scared and it is completely understandable. But, you know you can’t live in fear, it obviously isn’t working.” Crowley says calmly and with that voice he uses when he wants to get something across. “It’s been two years and four months” Like Castiel doesn't know. “Staying in the threshold is as bad as staying in the house”

His shoulders drop and he feels calmer or more accurately numb. Then he feels sadness slowly fill his chest. All he can think about is green eyes and how scared and alone and bare he felt that night.

“You don't have to be alone. Being alone doesn't protect you from anything” he looks at Crowley for several seconds, maybe a whole minute.

“I don't think he wants to get to know me” he finally says. And it’s not like I can contact him, he thinks.

“But _you_ want to” Crowley says like it means everything.

 

 

After the session Castiel decides to go to the library. Looking at books makes him feel calm and protected. It also, helps him think. He hopes he can work a bit on the case as well. They haven’t made much progress. Whoever came in with the man, had hacked the cameras. It frustrated all of them to no end.

And talking to his sister had made Castiel, more determine to figure out what happened. After the incident, he began to saw things in a different light. He completely understood peoples’ need to bring justice to their lost one, it felt like it was the only thing left to do for them. The only thing they could hold on to.   

He nods his head in greeting, when he sees Lily in the reception talking to a man and she smiles back at him. He moves to the second floor where the literature books are and he starts to browse the shelves, not looking for anything in particular. He hasn't been in the library in a while. He sees a few people sitting at the tables by the windows and he sighs softly, overtaken by nostalgia. A memory of two men sitting at one of those tables, each reading a book the other had chosen, comes to his mind. He presses his lips together in a tight line and continues down the library.

At this point he is just walking, not looking at the books. He walks until he reaches the one end of the library with the stairs that lead to the third floor. He turns around, ready to walk back, when in his peripheral vision he sees him. And he turns, rather abruptly, to make sure it really is him.

It is. And Castiel stands there looking at him. He is sitting at one of the tables, back at the bookshelves separating each table, reading a book. He appears relaxed and at ease. Completely different from the last time Castiel saw him. It suits him. He looks more… Castiel can’t find a word. And he doesn't mind, he sees it and it’s enough.

Before he knows it, he is standing, yet again, in front of him. After a few seconds, he lifts his head to look at Castiel. He has a confused look on his face, that lasts for just a moment before it is replaced with surprise and then soft annoyance.

“Hello Dean” He says, a little too loudly for the library.

“You stalking me or something?” he asks in a quiet voice, full of irritation. His posture stiffens. He is on guard, Castiel notes.

“It is a public library” Castiel responds calmly, like it answers everything. Dean raises his eyebrows incredulously. A few seconds pass where they just stare at each other. And Castiel feels something sifting in his chest, but maybe it is just his imagination.

Dean sighs. “Well, you going to sit, or stand there like a fuckin’ creep?”

He frowns at him but pulls a chair and sits opposite of him. He shifts slightly until he sits comfortably in his chair. A silence falls between them, it is a little awkward, and Castiel searches for something to say. Anything. But he finds nothing. God, he sucks at this. Then Dean finally aks, trying to sound conversational.

“You are working today?”

And _oh_. Explains the body posture.

“I am on call.” Then he adds with a small smile, like he is trying to reassure him. “Nothing happened”

Dean nods and the tension on his shoulders dissolves, just barely, but it’s still happens and Castiel feels a little better.

“What are you reading?” he asks curiously, glancing at the open book on the table. Dean looks down at the book and then up at him. He looks almost embarrassed, bashful.

“The man without qualities” He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck, sitting straighter on his chair.  

“Oh, which part?” Castiel asks with excitement in his eyes, he loves that book. Albeit, it’s a bit difficult to read.

“First. A Sort of Introduction” He responds, relaxing slightly and looking a little relieved. Like he was scared Castiel would judge him for his choice of book.

“It’s my favourite, out of the three” Castiel says smiling and feeling more relaxed himself. This was something he could talk about.

“Lily, had been nudging me for ages to read it. Though I didn't think I’d like it, not what I would go for.” He says, tone more open. And his eyes, Castiel notes, seem greener than before, again it could be just his imagination.

“I know what you mean, I was reluctant to read it at first as well, considering Musil never finished it”

Dean looks at him disbelievingly. “What?”

“The third part, Into the Millennium, ends with drafts and notes as he tried to work out the ending”

“But never did?” Dean asks scoffing.

“It’s not that bad. I actually enjoyed reading the many ways he thought he should end the book.”

“Yeah, but he never actually decided on it”

“Well, he died” Castiel says with a shrug. “His wife published the last book after his death”

Dean rolls his eyes, and chews slightly on his lip. He seems like he wants to say something, but then stops himself.

“Is it good though?” he finally asks and Castiel knows that's not what he wanted to say.

“It is. A little peculiar and full of different existential themes, but enjoyable. I really enjoyed the characters, even the ones that are less likeable” Dean just nods, looking at the book.

“I” he starts but stops himself. Castiel can see the beginning of a blush on his face. He thought it was odd, Dean didn't appear to be the kind of person that got embarrassed that easily.

“You don't think it’s-” he looks at Castiel like he will find the word in his eyes and then he finally says “I don't know… laughable”

He looks like he regrets speaking or like he just realised what he said and then turns his face to stare at the book.

“Why?” Castiel asks squinting at him. He doesn't understand why Dean feels embarrassed about it or thinks that Castiel would make fun of him for reading it. It’s one of the most significant novels of the twentieth century, in his opinion everyone should read it.

Dean shifts in his sit, looking uncomfortable. He looks at the side and huffs a laugh.

“You know, it’s… well, _me_ ” And Castiel feels a lot more confused now. When Dean looks at him it’s like he thinks Castiel doesn't understand anything, and it makes him feel small. Then he sighs and says with irritation.

“I am a prostitute”

Castiel’s eyes widen, but he is still a bit confused, then his expression changes to one of irritation. That doesn't mean he is not allowed to read, everyone is allowed to read. He has a feeling though, this doesn't just stem from him being a prostitute. He thinks that if he tells Dean that, he will scare him of and probably get yelled at. He sighs softly, feeling the heavy atmosphere settling around them.

“Is it because of the story of the man that murdered a prostitute?” He asks trying to lighten the mood.

Dean looks at him in shock and then he smiles. It’s the first real smile Castiel sees and it makes something in his chest flatter. It makes him look younger and carefree. He likes it. He might fall in love with that smile. His thoughts stop at that thought, and he panics. No. Just no. He suddenly wants to flee. Put a hundred miles between them.

Though his panic mustn’t show on his face, because Dean says with fake irritation “Hey, no spoilers”

And despite all his panic and the bells ringing in his head, Castiel smiles back at him. Dean looks a lot more relaxed and like something, even if it is very small, has cleared in his eyes. He is still tensed, but a little more at ease with Castiel.  And he finds himself relaxing as well, the panic settling at the back of his head.

“Alright, I wont spoil anything”

“Good”

A comfortable silence falls between them. And Dean goes back to reading the book, while Castiel just sits there looking at him for a few minutes. After a while he stands up and gets a book from the bookshelf behind Dean and starts reading as well. They spent a couple of hours likes this, reading in each other’s silence.

Eventually, Dean looks up and says in a soft voice. “Hey, I have to go”

Castiel looks a little startled, but he quickly comes back from the book he is reading. He places it on the table. “Alright.”

He offers Dean a small smile, as he watches him get up. He wears his jacket and picks the book up.

“You were right. It is a good book” And Castiel just smiles at him.

Dean nods and looks over his shoulder and back at Castiel, like he is contemplating what to do.  He sighs, shaking his head. “See you, Castiel”

And he turns around and leaves.

Castiel suddenly feels very alone. He touches the book that is open on the table and the paper feels harsh on his fingers. Gabriel and Crowley are right, he thinks bitterly, he really needs to meet more people.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s the middle of September and even though Castiel always found comfort in the Autumn, with the colours and the general atmosphere, now he feels like bugs are crawling under his skin. He is standing in a hotel room, not that far from the other one, where a man is lying on the bed, exactly like the first one. Like he is sleeping. This keeps being repeated in his head. It doesn't take a genius to realise, that it's the same person that killed the first guy either.

Castiel wears a pair of gloves, he hates those things, and lifts the blanket. He takes the mans right arm and rolls the sleeve up. And yes, on the inside of the arm, there is a small swelling, where the poison was injected. He sighs and rolls the sleeve down. He sees the crew that came to remove the body and offers them a greeting, before removing the gloves and stepping out of the room.

He walks mechanically towards his car and can’t help but think that this isn’t a coincidence. Not that he believes in coincidences.

Castiel hates this more than anything. There was no progress with the first victim, which makes him feel small and inadequate and frustrates him even more. He shakes his head slightly and begins to drive towards the station. After a few minutes he opens the radio. He tries to listen, to distract himself a little, but he can’t make out the words and it is just noise, which agitates him more. So, he turns it off.

He moves a bit in his seat, the silence is eating him, it’s almost as bad as when he had the radio on. He never had a problem with silence, he always enjoyed it. Growing up in a house with Gabriel, was chaotic, so when he had a few moments of silence he soaked in it. Now though, it was like the first week after what happened. A deafening silence, that sat in every corner as if it was taunting him. He was suddenly so alone and couldn't do anything, couldn't have done anything. Not that he could have prevented that man in the hotel room from being killed, he knew that, it was just the shadow of something else.

He gets into the elevator and closes his eyes, breathing deeply, the smell of floor cleaner is strong and it burns his nose a little, but he ignores it. He reaches his floor and gets out, heading to his office. He sees Hannah and Inias talking to each other and they both turn to look at him as they hear him approach.

“Hello” Inias greets him. “Charlie called, said she is a little busy and she’ll run the prints as soon as she can”

Castiel nods. “Did they send the security videos?”

“Yes. We will check them” Hannah says looking a bit hesitant. Castiel looks at her questioningly and she sighs. “Don't you think whoever is doing this, would have hacked them again?”

“No, I know that, but it doesn't hurt to check” It’s gives them something to do and not sit around helpless.

They both nod in agreement and he goes inside his office. He removes his trench coat and slumps onto the chair. He runs his hand overs his hair and thinks about everything and nothing. He jumps slightly when he hears his phone ring. He fishes it out of his pocket and sees Gabriel’s name flash in the screen, he pulls a face and answers it.

“Hello” his voice is a little raspy and he clears his throat.

“Hey little bro” Gabriel’s overly cheery voice reaches his ear. “How is it going?”

“I’m busy, so please just tell me why you called?” Gabriel makes a noise on the other end and responds with a more serious tone.

“You have a case” it wasn’t a question “Well, I just wanted to let you know that you are coming with Anna, Gadreel and me tomorrow, we are going to White Wendigo. Charlie is coming too”

“Is that a name for a bad horror movie?”

“Haha, you are hilarious. No, it's a bar”

Castiel rolls his eyes, it’s the forth time they are asking him to go out with them, in the last two weeks and he knows he can’t keep refusing them. He also, knows that this is the same reason why Gabriel calls this time, he is extremely persuasive. He has managed to convince Castiel to do things he otherwise wouldn't even imagine doing. “I don't have a choice, do I?”

“Nope.”

He sighs and rubs a hand across his face. “Alright”

“Sweet, we are meeting at 9, I’ll text the address. Good luck with the case” He says and hangs up.

Castiel stares at his phone for a few seconds before shaking his head, somewhat exasperated. Their attempts at making him socialise and get out of the house, are starting to irritate him. He knows he needs to get out more, but between staying inside to read a book and going out to have drinks, he will have to choose the first.

He is a little hungry, since he didn't have time to eat breakfast this morning, or really a granola bar, so he gets one from the package he keeps in his first drawer. Well, Hannah bought it, because he doesn't seem to be capable of eating breakfast and always ends up being hungry.

When he is done, he takes a sheet of paper and writes down what they know about the two murders. They are both men, in their twenties, white, the time between the two murders is eleven days, they were found in a hotel room and both were sex workers. Castiel puts a question mark next to the last one, since they don’t really know about the second victim.  

There is a knock on his door and then Charlie comes in, looking a little breathless. He raises his eyebrows at her, that was fast.

“He is in the system” She says as if reading his mind. He gets up and follows her out of the room. The image of the man, is on the screen.

“Name is Thomas Henson, he was twenty-three and was arrested for prostitution four months ago”

“So, whoever is doing this, goes after prostitutes” Hannah says with a hard expression on her face.

“Yeah, but why?”

Charlie shrugs at Inias. “It’s a little weird too. I mean, they choose hotel rooms, that they don't use for you know and they leave them there for people to find them” she voices the last words slowly, almost in a question.

“Like they are asleep” Castiel says and they all turn to look at him. “That’s what I keep thinking when I see them”

“Well, I wasn't able to do anything with the previous security hacking, but maybe I will with this one” Charlie says giving them a small hopeful smile and leaving to got to her office.

“We should make a board with what we know” Inias says and goes to get one.

Castiel turns to go to his office, but Hannah stops him with a soft voice. “How are you?”

“I’m ok.” She looks at him disbelievingly. “Really I am”

“It’s just… You look different, I don't know how, but you do”

“I don't think I look different” She laughs a little at that. “I am fine, though” He adds, giving her a small smile and goes to his office.

He presses he lips into a thin line. They are times like this where he wishes that Mick wasn't gone. That he still has somebody to turn to or simply just see when he goes home. He feels this overpowering need to talk to someone that understands, understands _him_ and knows what he wants and needs. That thought leaves him feeling deserted. He does have people around him, but there are times where he feels that they don't completely understand him. And there is Crowley, but he isn’t enough, he is just his therapist. For a second his mind drifts to green eyes and plush lips and he sits up.

He needs to stop this, it’s not like he will see Dean again, or the possibilities of that are very slim to none. _He goes to the library_ ; a traitorous voice says but he pushes it back. It’s not like Dean wants to talk to him, and why would he? Castiel is a very plain person, the only remotely interesting thing about him is his cat and his books. Plus, socialising isn’t his strong suit. And even if he met Dean and talk to him, then what? They live in different worlds and probably, _definitely_ , want different things. Christ, he has only met him twice. He needs to stop thinking about this, about him. Besides he has more important things to think about.

 

 

X

 

 

Saturdays are Dean’s lazy days. He spends the day in the park or whatever other place he finds interesting, or there is a free event in. In the evening, he watches a movie, no matter how bad it might be, in the city’s theatre for free. Generally, it is a day that he enjoys, it is slow and relaxing and he can forget and pretend things are going ok. That he is fine.

This Saturday he spends in the park, reading, which really isn’t that different from what he does most mornings, and people watching. He eats a burger and feeds the ducks and wonders if there will be an after for him. He doesn't want to keep doing this job and live in a shitty apartment with thin walls and neighbours who almost always fight or don't know where they are going, either because of booze or drugs.

He thinks about Sam, it has been a month since he last spoke to him. He wonders if he is well and happy, though he did sound content in their last phone call, albeit a little reserved. They have been drifting apart lately and Dean hates it. Sometimes he thinks about going to California but dismisses the idea. He will have nowhere to live, and Sam will probably ask him to live with him. But he knows the kid lives in a one-bedroom apartment with his girlfriend and Dean would impose. Plus, he doesn't know how he will go jobwise and it’s not much he can do with a high school diploma. And he has no way of repairing Baby and he isn’t going to leave her here. Also, just because he and Sam, would be in the same city doesn't mean they will be close. He knows Sam has a life, away from him and he is happy for him, he really is. He always wanted for him the best, it’s just… sometimes he is a bit bitter about it and hates himself for it. Sam got out, he did what he always wanted, go to Stanford to be a lawyer and Dean stayed here in this city, taking care of his dad, like always, only for him to drive, literally, himself to death and leave Dean completely alone.  

For a while it was ok, he used the save up money for rent and Sam’s tuition, he could only get so many scholarships, but he soon run out, and no one would hire. Then one night, he saw a guy working and that's how he started. It was bad and messy at first, but then he got the hang of it and it became a routine, an everyday job as long as he didn't dwell on it too much. Sometimes though, it all came to him and he would close himself on the bathroom and scrub himself to death, no matter the water temperature, which always was fucking cold. But those days were rare and as time passed they became even more scarce.  

He feels particularly heavy today, like there is an extra weight on his shoulders that he can’t shake. He drinks the last of his coke and throws the can in a bin on the street. It is busy tonight, which isn’t surprising since it is Saturday, but still busier than usual. He is outside of the cinema looking around, it is pretty chilly tonight and he kind of enjoys that small sting in his skin. It makes him feel something other than dullness and resentment. He thinks about going to the bar next door for a beer, but thinks better of it, one would lead to ten. He sighs, tonight they are showing The Mummy, for the forth time. Dean knows every second of that movie, but it’s better than nothing or other movies that they had chosen to show in the past, like Mega Piranha. He shudders at that, probably the worst movie ever.

He hears an obnoxious laugh on his right and turns to see where it comes from, or more specifically who it comes from. He spots a short, brown-haired guy that talks quite loudly to a red-haired woman, who seems amused by whatever his babbling about. He is accompanied by another red-haired woman and another guy that is tall, maybe a bit taller than Dean, who has a playful smile on his face and is holding her hand. Dean’s eyes widen momentarily when he sees on the guys other side and a little behind from the group, Castiel, who looks displeased and down right murderous. He thinks that if looks could kill, short guy would be lying dead in about a hundred different ways. A smile forms in his mouth and he tries to fight it in vain. They are walking towards Dean, presumably to the bar, judging by their attire, well everyone’s apart from Castiel’s, who is wearing what he wore all the other times Dean has seen him.

He suddenly feels the need to bolt, so Castiel won’t see him or worse talk to him. He has no idea why he feels this way, it’s not exactly shame but it is pretty close and he needs to leave. He doesn't like how he reacts when he is around Castiel, he is moving between comfort, which is ridiculous, shame and a sense like there is an abyss between them that, for whatever reason, Dean feels he can cross.

He doesn't realise he has been staring, so when blue eyes, that are a lot closer than before, meet his, he freezes and inhales sharply. He sees Castiel’s steps falter, but he soon composes himself, as oppose to Dean, who is standing frozen in place. They soon reach him and pass him, all but him who just stops there and looks at Dean, like he is trying to figure him out, which is not that different from the other two times he’s seen him.

He suddenly feels the need to bolt, so Castiel won’t see him or worse talk to him. He has no idea why he feels this way, it’s not exactly shame but it is pretty close and he needs to leave. He doesn't like how he reacts when he is around Castiel, he is moving between comfort, which is ridiculous, shame and a sense like there is an abyss between them that, for whatever reason, Dean feels he can cross.

He doesn't realise he has been staring, so when blue eyes, that are a lot closer than before, meet his, he freezes and inhales sharply. He sees Castiel’s steps falter, but he soon composes himself, as oppose to Dean, who is standing frozen in place. They soon reach him and pass him, all but him who just stops there and looks at Dean, like he is studying him, which is not that different from the other two times.

Dean clears his throat. “Hey” he aims for casual and relaxed, but probably misses for miles.

“Hello, Dean” He says, with that deep voice and Dean suppresses a shiver. He tilts his head to the side, and it unnerves him a little.

“You going to the bar?” he asks trying to shake of what he is feeling.

“Yes, they are dragging me” Castiel responds frowning. And Dean can help but snort, he really can’t imagine him in a bar, especially not with someone like that short guy.

Castiel’s eyes hold an amusement and he looks more relaxed, which effectively relaxes Dean. “You are going as well?”

“No, I’m watching The Mummy” he indicates with his head towards the theatre, behind Castiel, who looks at him quizzically.

“Is it a documentary?” He asks slowly, like he knows he is wrong.

“Dude, no. It’s the movie, you know with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz” Castiel continues to look at him with wide eyes. “You haven’t seen The Mummy? Who hasn't seen that movie?”

“Well, I apparently” he says dryly. “Is it good?” he asks after a bit.

“It’s great”

He looks at him as if he is considering something and Dean hopes it’s what he thinks it is. Castiel opens his mouth to say something, but before he can say anything a loud, “hey” startles both of them. He turns at the source, it’s the short guy, that marches towards them. He can see Castiel, roll his eyes and Dean smiles slightly.

“Hello, I’m Gabriel. And who you might be?” He asks a little aggressively and has a predatory look in his eyes and Dean fights not to roll his eyes.

“Dean” he responds flatly.

“And you know Cassie...?” He asks with something Dean knows, but can’t identify. Also, Cassie? This must show on his face because Castiel, shakes his head exasperated.

“What is it?” Castiel asks and looks at Gabriel with a frown, who in return looks defensively at him.

“We lost you” He gestures behind him and Dean can see the others standing by the bar’s door staring at them. He moves his weight between his feet self-consciously. “You coming or…”

Castiel turns to Dean decisively “What time does the movie start?” Gabriel makes a sound at that, but Dean ignores him.

“Nine-thirty”

Castiel nods and turns to Gabriel “Have fun” he says and begins to walk towards the cinema.

“What?” Gabriel exclaims, though he doesn't sound annoyed but shocked.

“Have fun” Castiel repeats turning around and staring right at Dean. “Are you coming?”

Dean glances at Gabriel, who frowns at him, and he just shrugs in response before following Castiel, who is already inside the cinema.

The first thing he notices is the change of temperature and then Castiel who is standing in the middle of the lobby staring at the gigantic poster of the movie. He goes and stands next to him.

“What was that?” he asks a little confused and amused.

“I want to see the movie” He says with a tone like Dean is stupid. He tries not be offended, he gets the impression that Castiel, is a bit abrupt and inept to some social queues.

“Yeah, I got that. But I think your friend wanted a little bit more explanation. Or your friends” He observes the people going inside the auditorium

“He is my older brother” And the feeling, Dean couldn't identify before from Gabriel, he now gets. “And they will understand” He continues to stare at the poster. “Is that Braden…”

“Fraser? Yeah” Castiel hums and finally turns to look at Dean.

“Where do we pay?”

“We don't, its free.”

“Really?” And Dean never thought that this man would ever sound or look so excited, especially about something like that. Dean just shrugs nonchalantly. “Come on” He takes his hand, and he has no idea why he does that, and heads with him into the auditorium.

They are not that many people there, maybe thirty and Dean moves them towards the center in a row where just a middle-aged couple is sitting, eating popcorn idly and talking. They sit down and Castiel looks around curiously. Dean checks his phone, they have five minutes until the movie starts.

“You want something to eat or drink?” He asks looking at Castiel, who looks nervous as he looks around.

“No, I am good” He looks at Dean and smiles, a wistful smile. A little sad, Dean thinks. “You know, it’s been a while since I last went to the movies”

Dean nods and Castiel spaces out for a moment and then he shakes his head. After a bit he asks for the plot and Dean provides it, with a bit of extra detail and more enthusiasm than he would like. By the time he is done the movie starts and so they fall silent and watch.

After a few, “that's not historically accurate” and “It’s just a movie. A _fantasy_ movie”, they head out of the theater. It’s a little chillier than before and Dean shivers at the change of temperature.

“Do you want a ride?” Castiel asks cautiously, as if he is afraid he will spook Dean and checks his phone.

“No, I’m good” It is a bit awkward as they both stand outside of the cinema not knowing what to say.

Castiel inclines his head up, looking at the sky and a small smile graces his face and Dean can’t stop staring at him.

“Thank you” Dean is taken aback by the emotion in Castiel’s voice. It’s something like happiness, nostalgia, content and gratefulness and other emotions he can’t name or know, but he knows he doesn't deserve it. And even though it is such a simple phrase, it feels too heavy, but Dean wants to hear those words on repeat until he figures out what Castiel means.

Castiel stares at him for a few seconds. “I should probably go to the bar. They are still there”

Dean nods and feels something in his chest, that he refuses to acknowledge as disappointment.

“Goodnight, Dean”

“ ‘night” he says and Castiel turns around and walks towards the bar.

Dean watches him until he slips through the door and then continues to stare at the door for a minute or so. He feels lightheaded and confused and a little happy and he hates that. He sticks his hand in his pockets and walks towards the general direction of his apartment complex, maybe he will catch a bus or something. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking so long to update but this chapter fought me.  
> Hope you enjoyed!!!


	6. Chapter 6

Dean loves driving and he loves Baby. It is the only real home he has known since his mum died, so watching her parked on the same spot for the past year or so, and looking like a hurricane paraded on her, feels like someone is reaping his chest open. It’s the only thing he has left of his parents and his brother and he can do nothing to fix her. Something hot seamers in his stomach, like acid and it pisses him off, well these past few days everything is pissing him off.

From the guy next door, with the constant banging on the wall, at random times through the day and night, to the girl at the coffee shop that decided that Dean needed cream in his coffee.

He mutters under his breath as he walks down the street sipping his coffee, at least she didn't charge him extra for this shitty milk thing.

He rolls his shoulders and tries to relax. September is ending and the days are getting chillier and he dreads the winter. He used to like it when he was a kid, even when he was on the road with his dad and Sam, and he hadn’t eaten in days and it was cold. There was something cathartic about winter and it made him feel clean in a way, peaceful, but for the last few years it has been awful. It makes him feel isolated and alone and cold in a way that has nothing to do with temperature. Anyways, he doesn't need to worry too much about it for now.

He doesn't know where he is going, but he feels a sense of calm overtake him. He thinks about heading to the library but gets bored just thinking about it. He has read so much this week he feels his head buzz merely by looking at books. So, he keeps walking.  

He ends up outside of the police station and refuses to acknowledge why or the traitorous feeling that rises in his chest and almost chokes him. He presses it down or fools himself into thinking that he does.

He looks at the coffee shop in the corner, and before he has a second thought, he throws his half-finished coffee on the bin and walks inside. It is Thursday, the day after he has that regular guy that pays pretty well, so he can indulge a little, even though Sams’ books seem to get more expensive as time passes. 

The ding and the music are still there, as well as the two guys behind the counter. He waits, for the man and woman in front of him to order and looks around, there aren’t that many people here. Just a few university students with their laptops and stressed expressions on their faces, and some other people either on their phones or talking.

The two people in front of him finally finish their order and he walks up to the guy, Benny, he is surprised he remembers his name.

“Hello” he says with a lazy smile; his eyes say that he recognises Dean as well.  

“Hi, a black medium coffee and a chocolate chip muffin” he says and gives Benny a few bills. He nods and takes the money typing on the register. He gives Dean his change and the receipt and says, holding his gaze “Have a nice day”.

For some reason it irritates Dean, but he instantly thinks it’s absurd to be irritated by that, so he forces a smile, and steps out of the line to wait for his order. The other guy, Jesse, according to his nametag, hands him the muffin and the coffee after a minute or so.

He sits on a table this time, by the window and stirs a pack of sugar in his coffee. He starts to eat his muffin slowly (it’s really fucking good) and his eyes stray to the station. He hates himself for it and he hates his mind for thinking about blue eyes.

He wonders for a few seconds, that's how much he allows himself on that topic, if things were different, if _he_ w _ere_ different, if he would have a chance with Castiel. Probably not knowing Dean, he is certain that even in another life he would probably be the same. Not good for anyone. He can’t help but resent Castiel a little too, he knows he feels this way because it’s easier, but still.

He finds himself relaxed around him, almost like he can trust him and be himself, which is ridiculous. At times he doesn't know who he hates more, himself or Castiel. And it’s not like he _knows_ knows the guy. But he knows he is pleasant, if not a little weird at times, and enjoys the silence. And if Dean has spent some nights and days thinking about him, who can blame him, the guy is hot. And well it’s just in his head and everything can happen in one’s head. So, he lets himself think, but not too much.

He finishes eating the muffin and looks towards the counter, maybe he will have another one. A blueberry one this time. But then he sees that trench coat and the unruly hair and swallows audibly. He is ordering and maybe he will take his coffee or whatever and leave. Though, Dean isn’t sure he will be happy with that. So, he continues to look, not gaze he tells himself, and waits.

Castiel looks tired, his back stiff and his shoulders slumped. It makes Dean want to get up and ask him what’s wrong, maybe touch his shoulder. _Jesus_ , he is pathetic. Teenagers act better when they have- _Nothing. Absolutely nothing._ He greets his teeth and curses under his breath.

Maybe he needs to get laid outside of work. He snorts at that and the woman, sitting on the table next to his, gives him a disapproving look and he just rolls his eyes. He glances towards the counter and sees Castiel, holding a large cup of coffee and walking towards the exit.

The woman, gets up making her chair leave a loud scratching noise, which makes Castiel look their way. His eyes lock with Deans and he can see the breath getting caught in Castiels’ throat. Then, he starts to approach Dean, and sits heavily in the chair across from him.

Dean releases a breath he didn't know he had been holding and clears his throat.

“Hello, Dean” Castiel’s voice is rough and he has dark circles under his eyes.

“So, you _have_ been stalking me” he blurts, instead of a greeting. This earns him a smile, which for whatever reason stirs something in Dean and makes him feel like he accomplished something great. He pointedly ignores it.

“You are the one sitting across from the police station.”

“They have nice muffins and coffee” he raises his cup for emphases.

“hm” Castiel says with a frown, picking at his cup.

“What?”

“I didn't think you would like this sort of setting” he says simply, raising his head to look at him. Deans’ eyes widen slightly. “No, I didn't mean- I” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I _meant_ you seem like someone who doesn't frequent in places where they play Isakov and serve macaroons. Which is totally inappropriate to assume. Forgive me. I am having a rough week, month. Years. I am sorry, I am rambling. Sorry”

He looks helpless and so sincerely sorry, that it throws Dean a little off. Or it’s just his eyes, that they are suddenly so big and blue and Dean struggles to breath. But he just chuckles, trying to compose himself and shakes his head slightly.

“Cas, it’s fine” The nick name kind of slips, he doesn't mean too and he is not sure he regrets it. Castiel doesn't seem to mind and he looks relaxed and pleased.

“It’s just work” he says quietly, sighing and chews on his lip and Dean doesn't stare.

“The case with...” He trails off pointedly, sitting a little straighter in his chair.

Castiel’s face bleaks and he looks out the window. Time passes and Dean doesn't think he will respond, until he turns to look at him.

“You can’t tell anyone I told you” he says seriously, maybe the most serious Dean has heard him.

“I won’t” he says solemnly.

“I mean it Dean. I am not at liberty to discuss it.”

“Ok, I got it. No talking. Not that I have anyone to talk to about it” He matters the last bit, but Cas hears it anyway and offers him a small smile, that Dean ignores again.

“Two more men have died.”

“They are all…?” Castiel nods. “Same person?”

“Yes. We believe it’s a man” he responds taking a sip of his coffee. Hands tight around the cup. “Late thirties, early forties”

“Right” Dean says stiffly, not knowing what else to say. It angers him. People like that anger him.

“You need to be careful too” Castiel says carefully, eyeing Dean like he is some sort of a delicate porcelain or something. It unnerves him.

“I’ll be fine” Dean offers him a big smile, trying to brush it off like it’s nothing. He hadn’t thought about it and his hand goes automatically to his pocket, where his pocket knife is. If Castiel notices the movement, it doesn't show on his face.

“I mean it, Dean” he says seriously and fuck, he needs to stop saying his name like that. Dean takes a deep breath. There is definitely something wrong with him.

“Don't worry, Cas. I’m a big boy” Cas rolls his eyes and Dean smiles at him, a real one this time. “Seriously you don't need to worry about me”

“You don't sound concerned about the situation” he says in a conversational tone, but Dean picks up on the implication.

“If it happens, it happens” He says shrugging.

“You are not worried that there is someone out there killing prostitutes and that you could be one of them?” he asks incredulously, like he can’t believe Dean is comfortable with the idea of death. Not that he is, but still.

“Listen, if it comes to it I don't know. I’m not saying I want to die. I don't.” he is a bit irritated now. “But-”

“But what?”

“You fight as long as you can and as hard as you can” he says and shrugs, not that he plans to die, not any time soon. At least not until Sam finishes law school, he needs to help him.

“That's your logic?” Castiel almost shouts and Dean loses his patience. “What about your f-?”

“My what Cas? Hm?” he spats back, that seems to make him recoil. “You don't know shit about me so just drop it.”

“You are right.” Castiel says evenly after a beat. “I’m sorry. I’ll be going, I have things to do”

Dean just nods and watches him get up and leave with his coffee.

The taste in his mouth is sour and his takes a sip of coffee but it makes things worse somehow. He is getting angrier the more he sits there and he wants to tear his hair out or punch a wall.

He gets up and out of the shop in seconds. He looks at the station and frowns. This was a bad idea. And the thing he is about to do even worse.

He crosses the street and heads to the station. He walks in and heads to the counter. A woman with short hair in a police uniform is there talking to another polish officer. Dean stops in front of them and clears his throat. They turn to look at him and he offers them a smile.

“Hello, how can I help you?” she says slowly narrowing her eyes slightly.

“I’m looking for Detective Novak.”

“Oh, is this about a case…?” she trails waiting for his name.

“No, I’m a friend. Name’s Dean” he says easily, smile never leaving his face. It kind of hurt his face, fake smiling like that, but he needs to get to Cas so.

“Ok. Dean. Well his office is on the third floor, homicides. You’ll find it. Elevator is over there” She responds smiling at him. She still seems suspicious but Dean couldn't care less right now.

“Thank you” he says and walks to the elevator, pressing the button for the third floor. He breaths deeply. He doesn't even know what he is doing, but he finds he doesn't care or he thinks he will know once he sees Cas.

The elevator stops and he looks up and sees number two illuminated. A woman with long red hair walks in, she is vaguely familiar, but he can’t remember from where. Besides, she is hot and if it was another time, he would have flirted with her. The elevator moves again and Dean can feel her studying him.

They reach the third floor and they both walk out.

“Castiels’ office is over there.” She says indicating with her hand towards the right.

And Dean is so surprised he just croaks “What?”

She laughs. “I remember you from the time we where suppose to go to the bar but he ditched us” For you, is left unsaid, but Dean can hear it plain as day. He smiles tightly at her.

“Hi” he says stupidly.

“Hello, I’m Anna” she extends her arm and Dean shakes it a bit mechanically.

“Dean”

“Nice to meet you Dean.” She says amusement clear in her eyes. “I’ll see you later” it sounds like a promise. Dean stands there for a second looking at her back as she heads down a corridor. Right. He blinks and heads towards the direction Anna showed him. His steps flatter a little, but he pushes himself to continue.

He passes a door that has a sign that says “For Staff only” and then another that is blank and then he sees a third one that says “Detective C. J. Novak”.

He stops outside and stares at it. For a moment he thinks about leaving, but then dismisses the idea. He doesn't know why he is here. Ok he does. But it’s not easy, alright. He was never good at those stuff.

He hears someone clear their throat behind him and he turns to look at them. A woman with brown hair and blue eyes looks at him with raised eyebrows.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m just going to go in” he says gesturing towards the door and feeling more nervous.

“Why?” she crosses her hands over her chest and Dean wants to either flee or strangle her.

“Cause I want to” he says and turns around hand on the handle. He knows he is being an ass, but he doesn't care.

“You don't have a visitor’s tag and people knock before they walk into a room” she says and Dean knows it will be strangulation.

“I don't need one and I don't need to knock either” he retorts and opens the door.

He sees Castiel raising his head startled and he walks further into the room.

“Hey” he says simply. Castiel just stares at him, his eyes wide, mouth slightly parted.

“I am sorry, Castiel. I don't know who he is, and I couldn't stop him” Dean rolls his eyes and Castiel glares at him momentarily.

“It’s alright, Hannah. I know him”

“Right. I'll leave you to it then” Hannah says and walks out of the room closing the door behind her, but not before sending a nasty look towards Dean, who huffs at the closed door.

“Can I help you?” Castiel asks in a voice like he is a sales assistant.

Dean turns to look at him, pleading with his eyes. He sits in the chair in front of his desk, placing his cup on it.

“Look, Cas. I’m sorry” when he gets no response, he continues rubbing his neck “I shouldn't have reacted like that.”

A silence follows after that, where they both stare at each other. Dean with a pleading expression and Castiel with hard eyes and lips pressed into a firm line. After a while, Dean clears his throat.

“Come one man, I told you I was sorry. Quit with the eye thing.”

“What eye thing?”

“You know what eye thing and don't change the subject”

Castiel sighs and his shoulders relax. “I am sorry as well. I shouldn't have pushed”

“It’s ok. Family is…” he looks at the ceiling, feeling uncomfortable. “A touchy subject”

“I understand” Dean isn’t sure he does, then again what does he know? He nods and licks his lips. “So… we good?”

“Yes, we are good” Dean nods smiling and Castiel smiles back at him, though his is more contained.

“Would you” Castiel starts but stops himself. He seems hesitant and a bit scared.

“Would I what?”

“Don't get angry.” He says hastily and rips a page from a notepad, writing something on it. “If something happens” he adds handing the paper to Dean.

It’s a phone number. Castiels’ phone number. Dean puts in his pocket reluctantly.

“I know you don't want help, but it’s for emergencies. Or anything you might need” he continues looking a bit sheepish.

“Ok.” Dean doesn't think he will use it, but if it makes Castiel feel better. “I will be…” he gestures towards the door awkwardly.

“Yes. Of course.”

They both stay there, staring at each other, neither moving. Dean eventually stands up and with a last small, awkward smile he goes towards the door.

“Would you like to have pizza?” Castiel blurts and Dean turns so fast to look at him, he loses his balance slightly.

“Yes” Dean finds himself saying, before he can think about it. This is a bad idea. This is a horrible idea. He should say no and leave. But then he looks into Castiels’ eyes and thinks that out of all the bad ideas he has ever had, this is the best and worst at the same time.

He takes a deep breath, to steady himself. “Do you want to meet around one?”

“Sure.” Castiel says and Dean thinks he looks a bit panicked, but he might be projecting. “I will meet you at the coffee shop”

“Awesome. See you” and he all but flees from the room.

 _It’s just pizza. Just pizza. A one-time thing. It’s not like you will see him again._ He thinks to himself as he walks out of the station.

_Fuck me._

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

They see each other again. And again. Castiel doesn't know how many times. He does, it’s four this past three weeks. And he doesn't care. He doesn't know what he is doing, or what is happening with Dean or what he wants it to be, but he doesn't care.

It’s good. It feels incredible, thrilling and for once after a long time, he feels light on his feet. He can breathe easier. He has something to hope for tomorrow, someone to talk to about stuff he cares and doesn't care, that matter and don't matter. He can just be.

He talks to Crowley, but he leaves Dean out of their sessions. Though he knows Crowley suspects something, at least he has comment on a change in Castiel, but he hasn't pushed. It’s not that Castiel is ashamed, it’s just something he wants to keep to himself. Even though Anna knows or thinks she does and told Gabriel about him and since, he hasn't stop pestering him. They are happy for him, he knows, but this is something that's for himself. He doesn't want to ruin it. So, he doesn't talk about it, but he thinks about Dean almost all the time, which is a bit ridiculous, he is not fifteen anymore, nor is he really sure he wants to be thinking about Dean. He gets scared when he thinks about him sometimes.

It’s just that Dean makes things easier, he likes to help others and gets along well with other people, knows how to talk to them, something that Castiel lacks, and he cares a lot, especially about his brother. This Castiel discovered on accident when they saw each other at the library last week. They were talking about The Trial, when Sam slipped into the conversation. He could tell that it wasn't an easy subject to talk about for Dean, but just the way his face lit up when talking about him made Castiel hypnotised. He likes this, he likes to know things about Dean and most of all he likes the feeling he gets in his chest that he can’t identify, but it makes him feel just a little fuller.

Although sometimes, in the dark of his room, he feels a profuse guilt overtake him. The reasonable part of him understands, he knows is part of letting go and moving on, and that there is nothing to be guilty about. He knows he hasn't forgotten and that he never will but it’s that striking fear that everything will start slipping from his fingers the more time he spends with Dean or anyone really. It’s like in the beginning where he thought that if he moved on, he would erase the past. Its why it was so hard for him to move from the apartment to this house. Though he now admits that it was a good choice, there were too many memories on those walls for him to let go. But the other part of him, the one that wins sometimes, tells him he what he is doing tastes like betrayal and he tries to remember a face and when he doesn't he panics and his body goes numb from fear or remorse or both.

On those days he goes to the living room, Carmen in tow and lays on the old couch, that everyone hates, he himself included at times, but doesn't seem to throw away and get a new one. He puts on some music and just lays there listening until morning. He thinks about his life, about Mick and how he used to joke that Castiel was emotionally attached to the couch he got on bargain when he was in college and the only way that the couch would leave from their lives would be if the apartment caught fire. He remembers the good and the bad days and sometimes he starts crying silently and then laugh at the same time for how things turned out and how he wished they had.

It’s on those days where he will buy coffee from the coffee shop, eat a muffin and sit on a table by the window and watch the people on the street (Crowleys’ instructions - do something you enjoy).

Today is one of those days. On top of that there had been another murder two days ago and Castiel is getting angry and frustrated to the pointed he shouted at Hannah and Inias, and then got angry at himself and everyone else at general vicinity. He can’t help it, they have made no progress. The guy is careful, too careful and Castiel knows everyone slips at least once and he is waiting for it. It’s just he doesn't know for how long he can wait. He just wants it to stop, all those people dying for no reason. Its stressing him out which adds to his anxiety, which leads to him having a lot more trouble sleeping or staying asleep.

He runs a hand through his hair, staring at the photographs of the victims, as if they will eventually come to life and tell him the answer. He knows the real reason he is looking is to punish himself. He can’t find the man and it’s slowly eating him.

He looks outside at the building and thinks about Anna and how stressed out she was this morning when he saw her. The lead she had on the Asmodeus case led to nowhere. He snorts when he thinks about the name, much as he did the first time, when she announced it to him a year ago. Anna can be really creative when she wants to, especially when it comes to naming cases. But when she is stressed and frustrated she is a force to reckon with, which is why everyone avoids her this past week.

He sighs, taking a sip from his coffee. Its seems that nothing works out for anyone these weeks. Maybe he should start bicycling.

 

 

X

 

 

It’s not like they are friends, Dean doesn't do friends. Especially with people like Cas. He doesn't know what they are and he doubts Cas knows either, so he goes with the flow. He knows it will bite him in the ass but he doesn’t care or he is that stupid. And he is more stupid since he feels a little alone now that he hasn't seen him in a week.

He is pacing back and forth on the road leading to the coffee shop. He reaches the corner, sees the door and then turns around and walks the other way. He has done this four times, its just, it makes him feel like an idiot going to the coffee shop and what? Wait for Cas? Its not like he knows he will show up, the guy has a job.

He is so so _so_ pathetic.

He stops at the corner again for the fifth time and turns towards the door, he’ll just buy a coffee and sit on a table, nothing wrong with that. He walks in and doesn't look around, just goes straight to the counter. There is no one in line, thank fuck, he would probably push his way through, if there was.

It’s Benny behind the counter again and Dean orders the same coffee as last time but doesn't get something to eat even though his stomach complains. Benny hands it to him and only then does he turn around and sure enough there is Cas, sitting at a table by the windows looking outside. He swallows and glances at the door, before looking at him again. He looks tired and _ruffled_. Dean knows that the case is weighing down on him. He sighs, moving his weight between his legs before deciding to walk towards him, not that he has much of a choice if he is honest. And he isn’t. He ignores the flatter he gets in his stomach, chest, everywhere and sits down.

Cas doesn't notice him and it takes the second time Dean says his name and a slight jump on Castiel’s part, before he finally turns and looks at Dean with a startled expression.

“Hey ya Cas” Dean says grinning, rolling his shoulders slightly and taking a sip from his coffee. God, he loves this coffee.

“Hello, Dean” he responds trying to compose himself. “You startled me”

“Yeah I noticed. How are you?”

“I am good” he says it carefully, frowning at the cup in front of him and Dean can tell his hands are fidgeting in his lap.

“You sure?” he asks tentatively, Cas tends to be jumpy and grumpier than usual when he is tired.

“Yes” he responds abruptly staring up at Dean. He sighs, closing his eyes. “There are a lot going on”

Dean nods, biting his lip. “Still nothing?”

“Yes, I’m afraid there is not really any progress”

“Those the vics?” he asks indicating at the photos in front of Cas, who nods wordlessly. There is a lump in his throat as he reaches across the table and takes the photographs in his hands. He flickers through them and he stops at one, his eyes widening. It’s Paul or at least that's the name he gave people downtown. He was young, the same age as Sammy, maybe a year older and he was one of the very few people Dean actually liked. He had told Dean once that he was a student studying chemistry or something like that, he can’t remember now and it makes him feel like shit.

“You know someone” Castiels’ voice brings him out of his thoughts.

Dean nods and places the photograph on the table.

“Mark Anderson. He was a student” Mark. It feels strange knowing his real name, a bit like he is overstepping a boundary. And he hates that he learns it under these circumstances.

“I know” he says softly and looks up at Cas, who is looking out the windows again. “Cas…” he sighs “you are going to find him”

Cas huffs without turning to look at Dean, frowning at the window.

“You have found others, you will find him too” he says with much more conviction in his voice.

“Four people are dead and there are going to be more.”

“I know but-“

“Nothing” Cas interrupts him finally looking at him and he has a look in his eyes that Dean hates. It makes him hate that sick bastard even more. He sighs, Castiel turns and looks out the window again.

“Listen, he kills prostitutes, right? Well, if I see someone looking a bit suspicious or at least more than usual suspicious I’ll call you, ok?” he knows it’s not much, practically nothing, but he wants Cas to feel better. Anything to make that look from his face disappear. And he doesn't want to know why he wants that. He tells himself he is being nice and ignores the warning bells in his head.

He turns to look at him after a bit. And Dean can tell that Cas knows that he says that to make him feel better. Cas says ok anyway.

It’s silent after that, both of them relaxing as they sip their coffees, either looking at each other and pretending no to, or outside. It’s the first week of October and it finally feels like autumn has come. The sky is grey and the temperature has dropped and the trees are losing their leaves. Dean likes this weather but hates it when it gets windy. He remembers his mom and how they would rake the leaves in the yard at home, well she did, Dean just fell dramatically on the piles. And if he concentrates hard enough he can hear her laugh.

He is staring at a woman holding a young boys hand as they cross the road, when he hears Cas’ voice but doesn't register his words.

“What?” he says in a daze, turning to look at him. Cas is looking at him curiously but doesn't ask, but Dean can see the question behind his eyes and it makes him want to flee.

“Are you hungry?” Cas asks instead, as if sensing his discomfort.

“Sure” he doesn't even have to think about it, at this point he would eat anything.

“Burgers?”

Dean gives him a big smile. “Hell yeah”

They get up, walking out the shop and Dean flashes Benny a smile as he sees him and he returns it.

“Come on” Cas says and Dean follows him as he crosses the street and towards the station.

“We need the car. I know there is a burger house, down the street, but I now one that makes the best burgers.” He tells him as they walk in the station, in a way that is so Cas that Dean almost loses it from the things going crazy in his stomach. He breathes deeply and ignores them.

“We’ll see” Dean says teasingly, putting his hands in his pockets.

Castiel stops and looks at him seriously. “They have the best burgers”

Dean just shrugs, amused, desperately trying to hold a smile from breaking in his face.

They get into the elevator and Cas presses the button for the parking lot. They finally reach the parking after being pulled up twice, smiling politely to other people and awkward small talk on Castiels’ part, which amuses Dean even more and earns him a glare.

He stops just before they reach Cas’ car and Dean watches him as he goes to the driver’s side, his eyes widening a bit, staring at the black car.

“Well?” Cas asks looking at him expectantly. “You going to get in?”

“Yes” he says shortly, frowning and going to the passengers’ seat. He sits down and can’t help but fidget. Gog it’s so fucking-

“Are you ok?” Jesus, it smells like vanilla in here.

“Is it the vanilla thing? They put it when they were cleaning it last week, it's a little…” Cas huffs and gestures with one hand in place of a word, as he pulls out of the parking lot and into the street.

“No, everything is fine” he says trying to sound exactly that and failing.

After five minutes of silence and Dean constantly fidgeting and huffing, which is absolutely understandable if you ask him, Cas sighs a bit tiredly.

“Dean” And ok, Dean acknowledges that he is being _weird_ , but justifiably so.

“What’s wrong?”

He turns to look at Cas and opens his mouth to respond.

“Don't say it’s nothing” Cas says a little amusement in his voice. Dean sighs and runs his hand across his face.

“The car, its…” he can’t say it.

“It is a Chevrolet Imp-”

“I know what it is” he greets out. 2016 too, he almost shudders. “God, I am so sorry baby” he mutters.

“What?”

“Shut up and drive”

Cas doesn't say anything, just shakes his head smiling and continues driving.

After twenty minutes of three different radio stations, a disagreement on Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller and Dean not managing to sit still for more than five seconds, they finally reach the restaurant. And Dean has to admits it’s nice. It’s homey and not overly busy, which he enjoys. He hates overcrowded restaurants.

They sit at a table at the far corner and Dean is stammering down a voice in his head, that almost makes him lose his balance and sounds suspiciously like Sam, telling him that this feels like a date. Which is not, because he absolutely doesn't want it to be.

They order and they don't say anything until their food arrives. Maybe Dean should feel weird about all those silences with Cas, but they feel natural and comfortable. And maybe he should be scared about them, the silences between them, but its another thing he doesn't want to know what it means for now, or possible ever if he can help it.

So, he takes a bit from his burger and he has to hold back from moaning or something equally embarrassing. He opens his eyes, which he closed without realising, and looks at a smug Cas.

“Ok, ok the burger is good” Cas raises an eyebrow. “Don't push it” he responds taking another bite.

They eat and talk about music and movies and books and all the stuff they usually talk about. And Dean is so high and light and confused at the end that doesn't even care about the stupid smile that has on his face as Cas drops him at the library in the afternoon.

He takes a deep breath and then another and walks towards the clinic. He is clean, which came as a huge relief, but he still visits sometimes, he likes Rowena and Missouri and their free condoms.

He walks in and sees Rowena behind the counter frowning down at some paper.

“Hey” he greets and her eyes snap up narrowing at him.

“Make some noise, would you” she says with no real bite behind her words.

“Oh come on, where is the fun in that?”

She huffs “I am just glad you said that and not something like last time” That makes Dean laugh. “You made the poor woman so embarrassed.”

He grins at her “You love me”

“In your dreams. What can I do for you? Condoms?”

“Yes and no” he answers sobering up “When should I do another check up?”

“Hmm” she turns and unlocks a cupboard, taking out a file. “Well the last one was two months ago, so want to schedule on for next Wednesday morning?”

“Sure” he says taking a handful of condoms.

“I’ll be waiting” she says eyeing him as he puts the condoms in his pocket.

He smirks at her and turns to leave saying “Say hi to Missouri from me”

“Ok. Oh, Dean?” he turns around and looks at her raising his eyebrows in question.

“If you could please let some people downtown know about the clinic. I know, I know not everybody would appreciate it but, we are trying to reach people and it’s not really that effective. But someone who is not a _stranger,_ maybe they will listen to you. Just the ones you think they will make good use of it. No pressure”

He smiles softly at her. “Sure thing, Rowena”

He has a few people in mind and makes a mental note to remember to do that tomorrow.

She nods, with a thankful smile in her face and Dean leaves the clinic feeling good, more good than he has felt in years. It’s a good day, even if he has to work, although today it’s that rich guy and it could be worse, a lot worse.

So, Dean goes at that coffee shop downtown with the shitty coffee, and waits until his phone beeps with a message telling him where to meet _Tom,_ thinking about Cas.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking so long to update, its just life got in the way :)


	8. Chapter 8

Deans’ apartment is small and crappy. The paint on the walls has been peeling off, making the ugly yellowish colour (which could have been white once upon a time, Dean thinks) give room for the plaster to show underneath, making it even more ugly. The bedroom just about fits a bed with a mattress that its’ springs dig into his back and creaks at every turn. The kitchen, which is the only room Dean spends more time in other than the bedroom, has a hardly alive kitchen stove that works whenever it wants to and a fridge form the 70’s, that sounds like a dying whale, accompanied with a table (that Dean fixed, because it was barely standing). As for the main room, it barely fits a two-seat sofa and thankfully it has a bit of a room in front of it, because that thing is so filthy that Dean sometimes shudders when he looks at it. So, he sits on the ground next to the old radio whenever he wants to.

The main problem with a small apartment is that Dean doesn't have enough room to walk around angrily as he talks on the phone with Sam. He even went to the bathroom, which has just enough room for him to do a 360 turn. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly trying to cool down.

“Sam” he says feeling his patience slip with each syllable “Everything is fine and I don't need you to come see me.”

“But, you aren’t. I mean Dean, you have taken this weight and-” he continues as if Dean hasn't said a word this last few minutes or the last few years.

“I don't care about the money Sam” he interjects, for the hundredth time, and stops pacing, looking at the half-eaten cereal on the table. And he can’t even begin to think of Sam in this _shithole_.

“I know I left to do this and you feel the need to help me with all this, but seriously just let me do something for you. To _help_ you” and he can practically see the puppy eyes, making something inside him stir.

“We’ve been over this Sam. You finish your studies and then you can start working. Got it?” And work for what? To come and see Dean? A shiver runs through him and he tries to stay composed with everything he has. The thing is he _wants_ to see Sam, just not here, not now.

Sam sighs and Dean, knows he is losing his patience as well, but he doesn't care. He needs Sam to understand, understand that he needs to do this for him otherwise he is completely useless. The last words are said in the voice of his father and Dean tries to breath through the pressure in his chest. Then Sam says something that makes him grip the door frame and he tries really hard to stay calm.

“I know you are doing this so we can be connected in a way. But, Dean we are connected, I know we drifted apart for a while, but now we are doing better, aren’t we? You are my brother and I care for you. _I do_. So, I just need you to drop that heroic martyr act you have going on, because it’s just making you mis-”

“Enough Sam” he practically seethes out and he feels something pound in his chest, but at least now he can breathe a little better. But there is still something buzzing in his ears. God, he wants to hang up and forget the last five minutes.

“I am worried for you Dean and I don't want to-”

He pulls the phone away from his ear so he doesn't have to hear the rest of that sentence. There is acid making its’ way from his stomach to his mouth and he fully leans against the doorframe.

He takes a breath and puts the phone back in his ear.

“Listen, I don't want you to worry about me. Just focus on your studies and social life, not that you ever had one” he is deflecting he knows, but at least Sam huffs a laugh on the other side. “I am fine, drop it please” he says in a quiet voice. An image of downtown comes on his mind and he tries to think of something else, anything but fails.

Sam doesn't know what Dean does and it’s for the best. All he is aware of is that he works at a garage down town and it’s all he is ever going to know if Dean can help it. He doesn't need him worrying, or _judging._ He closes his eyes tightly and hits the wall with his free hand, feeling good for the pain that rushes through his arm. And how fucked up is that?

“Ok, I will. For now.”  he answers eventually and Dean can’t help but smile at his answer, because it is so Sam and he misses the kid so much.

“We’ll talk later, when you man up enough to ask Jess out. On second thought no, cause I’d like to talk to you again sometime this century”

“Haha very funny.” Dean can picture his face in his head and he chuckles, relaxing minutely. “What about you? Got anybody to ask out?”

And Dean almost chokes on air and has a heart attack at the same time. He sees a flash of blue eyes and full lips and his heart is pounding so hard he can practically hear it. He swallows.

“No” he says at last and cringes at how his voice sounds. Sam makes a sound at the other end of the line, could be a laugh Dean can’t tell, he is far too busy trying to figure out why he is acting like this. Because in fact he doesn't have anyone to ask out. Cas is just an acquaintance. Ok, a friend, but that's it. Dean can’t deal with anything else, it would complicate things.

“Ok” Sam says dragging the word and Dean knows he knows that something is up. “We’ll talk later. When you are ready, Dean” Dean can hear the smugness in his voice and scowls.

“Bitch”

“Jerk”

He hangs up, puts the phone in his pocket and exhales slowly. His head is pounding and he tries not to think. He drags his feet across the room and takes the bowl of cereal, empties its’ contents on the bin and goes to the sink to wash it. The sound of water calms him a bit, as do the mechanical movements in order to clean it.

He feels heavy, has been feeling this way since yesterday. It was a particularly long night, then again, most nights seem long these days and Dean has a strange, he wouldn't necessarily call it bad, feeling in his chest.

He rolls his shoulders, trying to rid the tension in his back and puts the bowl on the counter to dry. He goes to the bedroom and gets his clothes out from the dresser. He thinks about taking a shower but dismisses the idea, the water is going to be cold (its always is) and he will shower when he gets back.

He gets dressed a little hastily and sits on the bed to wear his shoes, but stops mid-air, holding a shoe. He feels the need to lay down and curl in on himself. He swallows and breaths through his nose, counting to ten.

Once he feels in control of himself again, he puts his shoes on and heads to the door, but stops and goes back to the bedroom and takes the leather jacket from the hook behind the door and puts it on. Immediately he wants to take it off, but thinks that being uncomfortable is better than being cold, so he sucks it up and leaves the apartment, humming Metallica and willing his mind not to think of anything.

By the time he is downtown it’s completely dark. He goes to the coffee shop, buys a cup of coffee and stays there until he is ready to go to the _main_ _street_. He likes walking at night, it makes him feel at peace and sometimes he thinks that the air smells differently at night, which is stupid, still it makes him feel slightly satisfied about life. Tonight though, it doesn't help him at all.

When he started doing this he wasn't exactly sure how to shop customers, but thankfully they did know how to approach him. He knew, he had learned it since he was a teenager, that he was fairly pretty, not handsome, as someone told him once, he doesn't remember who. And he had learned how to use it to his advantage, but this was different and it didn’t have to do with a pretty face, that was just an advantage. Just a way for people to remember him, though Dean wanted to be forgotten.

He stands in corner, leaning against a wall a bit away from the others and watches them. He bits his lower lip and sees a guy standing on the other side of the road smoking and before he can talk himself out of it, he pushes off the wall and starts to walk towards the man. He feels a hand around his arm and turns, his eyes widening momentarily, before his face goes back to his nonchalant expression.

“Hello, officer” he smiles at her, she is the one from August, name starting with H or something.

“Hello” she greets back. “You wouldn't mind accompanying me to the station, would ya?”

“Why?” he knows standing in this street isn’t enough for an arrest.

“I don't know, Winchester. For the heck of it” Dean raises his eyebrows at her in question, both at the name and her words. “I like to remember peoples’ names around here” she responds grinning, eyes twinkling.

“Well, thank you. But I’m not doing anything arrestable” he says trying to ease his nerves.

“We both know that's not true” she eyes him and shakes her head slightly. He feels like he is being mocked and he instinctively wants to look down, but stops himself. Dean really hates cops.

“Oh, come on.” He doesn't need this. Not today.

“Hey, don't be like that, you won’t be alone” Dean really wants to crack his skull open.

Instead he smiles, and gets inside the car without another word. He is the only one in her car and he is thankful for that. Once they reach the station, they go over the whole process quite fast and then he is inside a cell.

He sits on the bench next to a guy he has seen on the street and rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes. He can’t decide if he likes the fact he didn't get to work today or not.

He listens to a man, drunk judging by his slurred speech, shout something about male prostitutes and the men who go to them and he almost dissolves in a hysterical laughter, but contains himself. He hears an officer talking, but can’t make out what he is saying and then there are more voices.

 He sighs and his mind goes to Cas and he jerks in his seat, eyes opening. The guy next to him is giving him a funny look, but Dean doesn’t pay him attention, he doesn't pay attention to anything around him. He grips his knees and exhales through his nose, Cas is the last thing he wants to think about.

Well, not entirely true because the thought of Cas calms him and makes him feel good, like he matters and sometimes when he thinks about the way Cas looks at him he feels like he is adequate, though he doesn't know at what. Which is absurd, because one Dean isn’t anything worthwhile and two Cas is far too good and virtuous to be looking at Dean like this or think that he is anything other than, than _tainted_. He really needs to stop this, it’s not good for him. He swallows a lump in his throat and leans back against the wall, trying to gain his thoughts back.

 

 

X

 

 

Castiel told Crowley about Dean last week and he hasn't been able to get Crowleys’ expression off of his mind ever since. He keeps playing it in his head like he is trying to figure out something, but he doesn't know what. And its not like his expression conveyed something bad, it was pleased, thoughtful, a bit amused and like he knew something that Castiel didn't know and that annoyed him to no end. When he asked him what he thought about the whole situation, what he got in response was vague and that he was glad that Castiel had met someone knew and was making friends.

That's another thing that bothered him, the way he had said the word friends, as if it implied something that only Castiel knew the meaning of.

_“It’s about bloody time you did something”_

Those words have been ringing in his head since Monday. He feels weird thinking about them and the whole thing with Dean. It’s like he is trying to put into words something that has no shape or form, or maybe it does and Castiel isn’t aware of it or can’t see it. Plus, it’s not like the feelings he gets when he thinks about Dean make any sense. Or maybe he just doesn't want to know what they mean. He is confused and scared about them and sometimes he feels like he is flying but can’t land. And then there is the whole change thing happening inside him, that he can’t even begin to describe.

Yesterday, he found a photograph in the office while he was putting away the last books from the move (and ok it took him a year to fully move in the house, and there are still some stuff he hasn't put away, but who can blame him) and froze holding the frame. It's a decade old photo of them, still in Uni at some bar laughing, he couldn't remember at what, but he remembered the feeling. The happiness, fulfilment and a sarge of something in his veins that he had never felt before which made him feel like he could do anything or be anything.

He smiled and a bittersweet feeling overtook him. He thought about the people in the photograph and felt like all those things happened a lifetime ago and maybe to someone else. He doesn't know why he had that thought, it troubled him, made him feel like he was becoming a distant memory, maybe he was or more precisely the person in the photograph along with Mick was. He knew he was completely different from that twenty-two-year-old. And the thing that made him feel a bit guiltier, was that he was happy about it. He, also, wondered idly if the person he was now was someone that Mick would have liked, not that it mattered now, but it was just a thought that he didn't care the answer for.

But fortunately for him and his sanity, they have made progress on the case. And now he has something else to put focus on. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more and watches the man on the other side of the glass as he darts his eyes around the room nervously. A security camera captured him carry, more so than support Mark Anderson, in the hotels’ hallway. With that they learned that the victims are still alive when they enter the hotels, but they are drugged and can barely walk.

Castiel’s knows it’s not the man they have been looking for, he lacks the certainty with which the crimes are being committed, as well as the sense of commitment into something like that. He knows that this bit was left in the security footage by the serial killer to through them off. It also betrays the arrogance the man feels and that he knows he is a step ahead of them and that he thinks it will stay that way, which makes Castiel hate the man even more.

So, he puts on his interrogation face, at least according to Hannah and walks into the room.

“Hello, Mr Bass”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Come say hi on tumblr](http://notsortable.tumblr.com/)  
>  Thanks for reading :)


	9. Chapter 9

The envelope is left on his desk and it’s the first thing he notices when he gets inside his office in the morning. His heart jumps in his chest and he tries to ignore the chill that goes up his spine, say it’s nothing serious. But Castiel isn’t a great liar or really, good at calming himself and judging by the looks Hannah and Inias gave him when he walked in, he knows it’s nothing good. Well, it could also be because he isn’t supposed to be here today, but its not like he had anything else to do. He absolutely despises the days he in on call.

He removes his trench coat slowly, hangs it carefully on the coat stand and goes to sit on his chair. His back is tensed and he feels a pressure on his forehead. He sighs and rubs it in hopes for the pressure to stop.

He looks at the envelope with a blank expression on his face for several seconds or minutes, he isn’t sure. Acid makes its way to his mouth and he feels like he is waiting for a bomb to explode in his face.

Eventually, he reaches and takes it into his hands turning it over, it just has his name printed on the front side, and that alone makes his stomach turn. He swallows and runs a finger across the letters.

He should have used gloves, he muses, not that he is concerned about protocol right now.

He presses his lips in a tight line and rips it open, feeling a weird satisfaction at the sound it makes.

There is a folded paper inside that he takes out and turns over his hands a couple of times. Castiel can see there is something typed in it, but he can’t bring himself to unfold it yet. There is boiling anger inside him and he feels the need to punch something, anything.

Instead he just takes a deep breath and unfolds it. The sooner he is done with it the better.

His hand curls into a fist and his jaw clenches. He _so_ angry with this man, with the world, with himself.

God, he so angry with himself. The reason he does this job is to catch these people and all his has is a big nothing and this letter, these words.

_“It is like you are not even trying. I hope you enjoyed the conversation with Aaron”_

For a second he feels defeated, his shoulders dropping. Then he jumps up annoyed with himself for feeling like this, because that is what this man wants. He glances at the letter and wants to tear it apart and burn it.

Rather he takes a breath, then another one in hopes to appear more composed and walks out of his office, letter in his hand.

Both Hannah and Inias look up at him questioningly, a bit of alarmed and nervous, though Hannah is better at hiding it than Inias. Castiel shakes his head slightly, trying to be calm, he doesn't want to think how he looks right now. No doubt how he feels, vehement and exasperated. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

“Do you know who brought this?” he asks, his mouth feels weird as it shapes around the words, his voice low. His hands shake slightly and he tries to control it.

“No, none came here since we arrived” Inias responds glancing at Hannah warily.

Castiel nods and passes him the letter. Inias eyes widen and looks at him frowning.

“Please go to Charlie and ask her to run it for prints or anything really and check the cameras in the building” Inias gets up, muttering something under his breath and looks at Castiel frustrated. Castiel nods at him in understanding, there is nothing more he can offer right now.

“What is it?” Hannah asks voice laced with concern. He motions for Inias to go and he just nods walking away. Castiel watches him for a moment, before his eyes turn to Hannah.

“It is like you are not even trying. I hope you liked the conversation with Aaron” His stomach turns as he says the words and feels himself lose some of his anger, defeat and bitterness taking its place.

Hannah draws in a breath and looks down at her desk.

“We will find him” she says with determination after a moment, raising her eyes to look at him.

It doesn't quite help him, but it makes him feel less alone in this. He offers her a small, tired smile and she returns it, though hers is more genuine and halcyon. Sometimes Castiel hopes he were a more optimistic person.

“Oh, here you are!”

A voice rips through the silence, startling Castiel from his thoughts. He turns on his left giving Anna a bewildered look, as she walks to stand next to him.

“I thought you’d be downstairs with your boy. Hi, Hannah” She grins at the brunet and Hannah returns it, albeit a little reserved.

“What?” he frowns at her even more confused.

“Dreamy, is downstairs. Don't know what for, he was talking with Donna. I didn't get a chance to talk to him, thought you should know” she smirks at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Castiels’ heart jumps and he all of a sudden feels something pressing on his chest, because Dean, he is-

At least he was in the station last night, the pressure decreases at the thought and he draws a breath turning to Anna.

“Thank you, for informing me, however there is no need. And thank you for not talking to him” he deadpans.

She just rolls her eyes at him and says “It’s just because I was in a hurry and-”

“But you had the time to tell me”

“Don't interrupt me. Thought you wanted to know, since you are all, you know” she raises her eyebrows suggestively. He hears Hannah chuckle and turns to glare at her, panicking slightly because that's not what-

“You are completely taken by him.” she sighs like she is exasperated with Castiel, which is nonsensical because he never talks about Dean, everyone else, that's it Gabriel and Anna, do. And he is so uncomfortable every time they do, he doesn't know how to act or what to say when the brink him up.

He rolls his eyes at her, but she ignores him.

“Say hi for me to your boy. See you later. I have a drug dealer to track.” she turns and leaves, waving and if it were a different situation, Castiel might have laughed at the way she did it, so theatrically.

“He is not my boy” he shouts after her annoyed and flustered. _And his name is Dean_ , he wants to say, but doesn't.

He turns to look at Hannah, who is looking at him amused and he scowls at her.

“He is not my boy” he repeats less ardently and turns to go to his office, huffing when Hannah chuckles.

He closes the door abruptly and exhales.

 _Dean is down stairs_ , he thinks and leans against the door. A part of him, however small, hates himself for the way his heart is beating in his chest and the rush of excitement he feels at the thought of Dean. That part tells him he is doing something illicit, something that betrays-

He feels like he is cheating on Mick.

It’s like someone through an ice bucket in his face, it leaves him shocked and for a moment he wonders if that's what he is doing. But that's ridiculous, because Mick is dead.

His heart is beating rapidly in his chest for an entirely different reason now. It’s the first time those thoughts don’t make his throat close up, and that leaves him standing there, leaning against the door not knowing how to act. He practically feels it when that thought settles in his brain and becomes _ordinary_? Maybe, he doesn't have a word for it, it is a weird feeling, it’s as if the world is slightly changing around him and staying the same all at once.

There is no need for him to feel guilty about anything, about moving on because its normal, it is expected, it is what Mick would have wanted.

A weight is lifted off of his chest as those words become realisation. He closes his eyes and swallows, gripping the doorknob tightly. He feels that if he lets it go, he will collapse.

_“There will come a time where he will become a bittersweet memory. You will miss him, but you he will not be in the middle of you and your life. It will take time, but it will happen, gradually”_

He feels grounded as Crowleys’ words come to his mind. Yes, he is sad and wistful and he misses Mick, but he can- He can think of Dean, without feeling guilty or like he is betraying him.

He finds himself smiling a small smile and opens his eyes and after a moment he laughs. It’s a bit hysterical and there is a myriad of emotions going through him at once but he feels so light. As if there was something in his nose that took most of the oxygen and now it’s gone and he can _breathe_.

It takes him a minute to get a hold of himself and then he reaches for his trench coat. He puts it on hastily and opens the door, barely registering as it bangs against the wall.

Hannah raises an eyebrow, looking warily at him and he just smiles at her, shouting a “Bye, call if you find something _”_ as he speed walks to the elevator.

He hits, more than presses the button and drums his fingers on his thigh until it finally reaches the floor.  He nods at the other person already inside and presses the ground floor button, even though it is already lit. He is practically vibrating, but he doesn't care, he just hopes Dean is still here.

He is out before the doors have fully opened and he almost runs on a person, but he doesn't stop until he has reached the area where the officers’ desks are. His eyes move to Donnas’ desk and sure enough Dean is there talking with her. He is smiling and gesturing with his hands as he says something to her that makes her laugh and all Castiel can do is stare, breath caught in his throat.

He thinks about how Dean takes all rational thoughts out of his brain sometimes, like now, and how he doesn't mind. Maybe that should alarm him, because Castiel never did anything without a plan, without a reason and with Dean everything is about moments and bits and whatever happens and he basks into it, despite his hesitation and qualm.

He doesn't know for how long he is standing there, when Dean looks towards him. His eyes find Castiels’ and for a moment he freezes before he breaks into an easy grin.

Castiel moves towards them, feeling hypnotised and only when he stands in front of Dean does he break eye contact to look at Donna, who is looking at him in surprise and slightly suspicious.

“Hello” his voice sounds weird in his ears, but he doesn't think much about it.

“Hi, Castiel” Donna says brightly, glancing between him and Dean a bit confused.

“Hey” Dean mumbles, looking up at him and Castiel can’t help but think how green his eyes are.

“Hello, Dean”

“Oh. You know each other.” Donna says frowning slightly at them.

“We met at a coffee shop.” Castiel responds and Dean looks at his lap, picking at his shirt.

Donna raises her eyebrows, her smile faltering. “Ho-”

“He is working on a case” Dean cuts her off and raises his eyes to look at her. It takes her a moment to understand and her eyes widen looking up at Castiel.

“Then one with the…” she gestures with her hand, looking grim.

“Yes” Castiel says and looks at Dean, but he doesn't look back at him.

The seconds that follow are awkward at best and Castiel moves his weight between his feet and tries to think of something to say. Maybe he shouldn't have come down to see him, he isn’t good at interactions and what on earth was he thinking, Dean isn’t-

“I should probably go” Dean says tersely as he gets up and Castiel notices that the jacket he is wearing is a little big on him. He also notices how tense he is and that he is still not looking at him.

“Sure” Donna smiles softly at him and gets up as well, Castiel can tell that she thinks there is something off about them and he knows she will ask him later, but he can’t pretend to care.

“I’ll drive you” he is finding himself saying and that makes Dean look at him. His eyes widen in panic and he shakes his head, opening his mouth to refuse.

“I’m on call. I’ll drive you” he repeats staring at Deans eyes intensely, in a way he knows the other man will not say no to him. When Dean averts his eyes to the ground, Castiel turns to Donna and gives her a small smile. “Have a goof day”

“You too” she smiles at him and Castiel turns around walking away. He hears Donna say bye to Dean and he smiles at himself, stopping at the entrance of the police station.

“Jesus, do you always walk so fast?” Dean grumbles next to him and Castiel can hear the stiffness in his voice, though is carefully concealed under false irritation. Castiel just shrugs walking down the steps and he can practically hear Dean rolling his eyes.

They walk in silence until they stop at the red light waiting to cross the road.

“Thought you’d drive me”

“ _I_ thought you might want some coffee” Dean just huffs in response and Castiel can see him relax slightly.

They get inside the coffee shop and go up at the counter. Benny smirks when he sees them and puts down a plate of cookies he is holding.

“Morning. Your usual?” Benny asks Castiel looking amused.

“Yes, thank you” he answers, raising his eyebrow at him, which results in Benny looking more amused. But he doesn't make a comment, though Castiel knows it rests on the tip of his tongue, instead he turns to Dean.

“Medium, black?”

“Yep” he responds simply, putting his hands in his pockets and giving Benny a tense smile.

Castiel looks behind him at the tables, it’s not very crowded for a Friday and he is glad about that. He doesn't like places where a lot of people are, it makes him feel like he is in a cage, or really back at his parents house, which is why he always sits next to a window if he can help it.

Benny tells them their sum and Castiel takes his card out and can see Dean reach for his wallet as well but he just pays and moves towards the waiting area, without looking back at him. He knows Dean is going to be more irritated, but he doesn't care. He has come to find that he gets annoyed whenever someone gives him something, so Castiel has come to ignore the scowls.

Sure enough, Dean walks up at him with a scowl, but doesn't say anything, which is a first. Benny hands them their coffees and two cookies.

“On the house” he winks at him and Castiel huffs a laugh, taking his coffee and the plate.

“Thank you. Where is Jesse?”  

“Caesar finally took a leave for four days, so they are taking a trip” Benny rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Castiel knows that Caesar is a bigger workaholic than he is and that Jesse had been trying to convince him to go somewhere for months. Although he is a bit surprised that Anna let him take a leave now with the case they have been working on. Although, knowing both of them, Anna probably was glad he went on vacation. He remembers her being worried about him spending so much time in the office.

“It was about time”

“Well, yeah. Hope you have a good time” Benny tells them and walks to the register as he sees a woman approaching.

They choose a table next to a window and sit down, silently sipping their coffees and eating the cookies.

The more time passes the more relaxed Dean becomes and that calms Castiel as well. He thinks that out of all the things he enjoys with Dean, sitting is silence is one of his favourites. It is almost as enjoyable as when Dean talks about stuff he is passionate about.

“You shouldn't have done that” Dean says abruptly, picking up a piece of cookie and shoving it in his mouth.

“What?” he knows Dean isn’t buying it, but it's the only way he’ll let it go.

The younger man huffs and sits straighter in his seat.

“Thank you” he says quietly after a minute and Castiel smiles at him making him roll his eyes.

 “Are you ok?” he asks carefully, he doesn't want to make him angry, though he has the feeling that Dean will get angry at any sign of concern from anyone, especially right now.

“Peachy” he takes a sip from his coffee and frowns at the cup.

“Dean…”

“Don't- Don't patronize me”

“I’m not patronizing you. I’m worried”

“I told you I can take care of myself.”

“That doesn't mean I am not going to worry” Dean turns his head and looks out the windows frowning.

“I’m not your charity case or, or somebody you need to _protect_ ” he says the last word with such aversion, that makes Castiel think that Dean isn’t used to people caring about him and something inside him cracks.

“Do you want to talk about it? What’s bothering you?” He asks after a few seconds and Dean looks at him, with irritation in his eyes. At least the frown is gone.

“Oh, yeah let’s talk about Deans’ shitty life” he says sarcastically. “What do you want to know? How I ended up doing this? Or why?”

“I’m not judging you. I’ve never judged you” Castiel says softly and Dean looks down at the table, his shoulders dropping and he takes a deep breath.

“Can we please just…” Dean looks up at him, all anger gone and there is just a flicker of sorrow, before it is also gone and there is just something Castiel can’t recognise. “I’m- I don't want to talk about it”

“Ok. It’s ok” Dean looks at him questioningly at that. “It’s ok that you don't want to talk about it now. Or with me”

Dean looks at him in disbelief, like he can’t figure out what Castiel is thinking and then slowly smiles at him after a moment and takes another bite off of his cookie.

For a moment Castiel thinks he has no idea about what he is doing with Dean, he just knows he wants to see him, possibly every day, which makes him feel a bit selfish, but he can’t bring himself to feel bad about that. Dean is something indescribable. He makes Castiel feel things he hasn't felt in a while and things he has never felt before. He wants Dean, he realises, in any way he can have him. That thought unnerves him and he doesn't know what to do with it, he feels panic and fear rising in his head, so he stops thinking about it.

They end up talking about the free clinic and Castiel finds himself excited about the idea. It’s something the city definitely needs and something about the fact that there are people out there that do something like that, makes him feel good and hopeful.

He gets a text from Hannah saying that the envelope was left in the reception, by a woman they haven’t identified and an officer brought it up. He sighs, his mood dropping and Dean looks at him carefully, like he is trying not to upset him as well as figure out what happened, but he doesn't ask or make a comment and Castiel is grateful for that. He guesses that Dean knows the general subject of the message and Castiel tries not to think about what he does at nights. Usually he is good at avoiding those thoughts, but having him sitting in front him, a breath away, makes it hard.

He sees Dean shift in his seat, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden and that drives him out of his thoughts.

He frowns slightly, titling his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” He says quickly, voice a tone higher and he cringes a little afterwards. Castiel tuns his head to look around the shop.

“Don't” Dean says loudly and then in a normal voice. “It- It’s nothing”

Castiels’ frown deepens and sees Dean glance at something behind his shoulder. He shakes his head at him and turns in his seat to look. There is nothing other than a man with a child eating muffins, woman typing in her laptop and _oh_

A man, three tables down, that is staring at Dean with wide eyes and then notices Castiel looking at him and looks down at his phone. Castiel noticed another cup on the other side of the table, along with a jacket on the chair opposite of him and raises his eyebrows, before turning around to look at Dean.

He has his hands in front of his face and from what Castiel can see he is blushing. Fleetingly, Castiel thinks about turning back around, but stops himself. He feels something simmer in his stomach, maybe jealousy, he isn’t sure. Besides, that's ridiculous because there is nothing- because that man is just someone that Dean- He really needs to stop that train of thought, if he wants to stay sane.

“Dean”

“Dean” he repeats more firmly.

He removes his hands and opens his eyes, looking at Castiel with an unreadable expression. He isn’t blushing as much now, though he looks far more endearing when he blushes, Castiel muses.

“He- I…”

“It’s ok.” Castiel smiles softly at him and Dean looks down at the table.

“Don't say it’s ok. It’s not”

“People do-“

“Don't. Just don't” he chuckles humourlessly and shake his head.

Castiel doesn't know what to say and he just picks at his cup.

“I don't like them remembering me” Dean says after a while, looking out the window. It sounds like he is letting Castiel know something sacred, it certainly feels this way.

“I know they do, it’s why most them come back. Well, mostly because I’m a pretty face” He tries for light but it comes out bitter and like he wants to add something but doesn't.

Castiel swallows, for a moment he doesn't know what to say and he just sits there staring at him. He lets emotions pass through him, hate, anger, sadness, until he isn’t sure what he is feeling. So, he says exactly what he sees.

“You don't think you are beautiful?” he knows it’s not what Dean wants to hear, or the most important thing in what he has said, but Castiel finds himself wanting him to know at least that.

He watches as Dean freezes and then tenses. He turns and looks at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes hold disbelief, before his expression closes and is replaced with his mask of calmness and indifference.

“I’m a pretty face” he says as if it answers his question and shrugs. Anger flares up in Castiel, though it’s not directed at Dean and he breaths through his nose trying to stay calm.

“That's not the same thing” he responds calmly and notices as Deans’ lips twist just barely. He looks like he is about to say something, but Castiel looks in his eyes and says “You are beautiful”.

Deans’ eyes widen and then he looks down. Castiel knows he won’t say anything and it’s fine, he doesn't want him to. There are more things he wants to say, but he knows Dean isn’t read to hear them. So, he just takes his cup in his hand and takes a sip from his now cold coffee and looks out the window. He smiles softly at the brown trees and something warm settles in him.

 

 

 

X

 

 

 

The words are etched on his skin for days.

One night, while he is showering he thinks about them and starts crying under the cold water. He knows he should get out, he is freezing, but he can’t bring himself to move. He just lets the teas fall and hopes to get the words out of his mind.

Another night, he hears them while he is on his knees sucking a guy off in an alley and for a second he thinks that Cas is there, behind him, but that's just stupid. Doesn't stop him from shuddering though, and he has to hold himself back from crying. Thankfully the guy doesn't notice, not that Dean would care if he did at this point.

_“You are beautiful”_

It hurts, it hurts so fucking much and sometimes Dean thinks he can’t breathe.

What is probably as bad as those words is Cas’ face when he said them. Dean has never been looked at like that, and something about it makes him warm and he feels something humming under his skin and he hates it. He hates all those things that go through him, every time he thinks about it or Cas, so he tries to ignore them.

He is sitting at his usual table in the library staring at an open book. He believes it's The Stranger, but he isn’t sure, he picked it up in a daze and sat down. He has been trying to read it for the last twenty minutes, but the words are swimming and he can’t concentrate.  

He glances at the girl at the end of the aisle as she browses the books and he sighs. He gets up and takes the book with him. He moves around the library feeling tired and groggy, which isn’t really a surprise considering he hasn't slept well in the past week.

He smiles tiredly at Lily when he sees her, leaving the book on the counter and frowns, thinking if he should borrow it or not.

“You borrowing that?” Lily asks him, pen in her hand. He blinks at her and after a beat, he shakes his head.

“Nah, I don't think I can read right now” he shrugs, trying to rid the tension of his shoulders, but it does nothing, in fact it makes him feel even more tense.

“Ok” she drags the word out slightly and eyes him carefully. She looks like she wants to ask him something, but Dean really can’t talk to anyone longer than a few seconds without feeling like he is going to throw up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” he tells her, followed by a small smile, that he isn’t certain if it’s directed at her or at himself.  There are times where he feels like he is smiling just to feel a little stronger.

He exits the library and feels the cold air of October hit him and thinks he should have brought the jacket, but he can’t bring himself to wear that thing, so cold it is. Well, until he can’t afford to not wear it, not that it’s particularly helpful in December or January, still it’s an extra layer.

He is about to turn right and walk the usual thirty-minute walk to his apartment, when he remembers he’s out of milk and bread. He knows there is a store a couple of blocks from here, but it’s in the other direction and he will have to do a circle.

He frowns down at the pavement. He doesn't mind the extra walk, in fact he believes it will help him, clear his head a bit. So, he turns around and walks the other way.

He passes the clinic, but doesn't get inside, like he would have otherwise done, he has a feeling, that if he sees Rowena, everything will come up and choke him. Thus, he continues to walk and tries not to think about anything and especially about that day in the coffee shop. He isn’t particularly successful at that.

For a moment he thinks about calling Sam and tell him everything that goes through his head, but dismiss the idea as quickly as it comes. Sam doesn't know anything, he doesn't know that he is attracted to men as well as women and Dean isn’t ready for him to know either. He knows Sam isn’t going to judge him, he isn’t dad, at least he hopes he isn’t, still he can’t bring himself to tell him, because _what if_. And sometimes that if kills something in him.

He reaches the store and buys what he needs quickly, and if he nearly drops the bottle of milk he is holding, because the woman in the register has just about the same blue eyes as Cas, no one needs to know. She is blonde anyways.

Dean walks faster after he leaves the store. He wants to be alone, all of a sudden, because the other thing he wants, he isn’t going to get it.

He decides he isn’t going to work tonight, he knows it will put him back money wise, but he knows the minute he is going to be on the street he will think about Cas. And how he felt when he saw him in the polish station, he doesn't think about that though either. He can’t handle the feelings he gets when he does.

As he turns a corner, he sees at the other side of the street an auto shop and it makes him stop. Something about the name is oddly familiar but he ignores it. He is pretty sure he doesn't know anyone named Singer.

He crosses the road before he even realises it. He can hear people talking from inside, but he doesn't move, he just continues to stare at the shop, until a man comes at the entrance and raises his eyebrows at him, making Dean take a small step back in reflex.

“Can I help ya?” he asks frowning.

“I, uh, no I’m… I’m good” the mans’ frown deepens and looks at him like he thinks Dean is bullshitting him, but doesn't say anything else.

After a beat or two Dean finally turns around, because in fact he doesn't know why he is staring at an auto shop, maybe because of the state Baby is in, he muses. He only makes it two steps, before he hears the man shout at him.

“If you ever need anything” Dean looks behind him surprised, the man just shrugs and goes back inside the shop without another word.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is an extra-long chapter. It was really difficult writing Castiels’ part, especially with him taking another step to overcome his grief and I hope I’ve done an adequate job. Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading
> 
>  
> 
> [ Come say hi on tumblr :)](http://notsortable.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

Things have been slow for a while. There has been a murder in the last fifteen days, which gave Castiel time to think and processes the case from different angles. He went over everything, trying to catalogue every detail, but it’s like he is making a puzzle with half the pieces. He doesn't have enough clues and so he has to wait, which means more people have to die. It keeps him up at night and Crowley comments on that making him do breathing exercises before he sleeps, but he just can’t get himself to relax.

He doesn't see Dean during that time, which leaves him bitter and more restless than he would like to admit. Truth is the younger man has become a part of his life and Castiel is confused or he isn’t, but he can’t think straight and he only thinks he does when he sees Dean, which should alarm him, but instead makes him feel a bit lighter and free. He has never felt like this before. Sure, there was Mick who was calm and kind, but there is something about Dean that has him dizzy and short of breath and he likes it. He likes that he starts to feel free and terrifies him all the same.

He presses his lips in a tight line as he stares at the photographs of the victims on the pinboard. They found another body this morning, making them five. He was expecting another one considering the pause of one week, a man like that doesn't just stop. He is gripping his cup a little too tights and sets on the table before he snaps the cup.

He hears Anna sigh next to him and he turns to look at her.

“You know I could never do homicides” she says staring at the board.

“I’m aware” he replies skipping through some notes Hannah has made.

She hums and after a moment she asks. “What’s the profile?”

“Male, middle-thirties to forties, affluent. Absent father. He is arrogant” Castiel exhales and leans against the desk behind them and places the papers there. “I believe, he thinks he helps them.”

“Why so?” she frowns.

“For starters, they all ate, mostly different foods, just before they had sex.” He narrows his eyes slightly “I think he asks them what they want”

“Like a last meal?” she asks incredulously.

Castiel nods and continues. “And it’s the way he leaves them. In a hotel room and under the sheets. They look like they are sleeping.”

“He doesn't dump them.”

“No, and he chooses hotels, expensive hotels. Somewhere where people will find them, not just anybody.”

“The cleaning stuff and you” Castiel nods and she turns to look at the photos again, taking a sip from her coffee.

“He thinks he helps them” she repeats thoughtfully. “You don't have anything else?”

“No” he says, his shoulders dropping. “Other than the note, which doesn't exactly fit. And the woman which we haven’t identified.”

“The note was personal. Far too personal for something like this” She frowns and drums her fingers against her thigh. “Why would he send something like that to you?”

“I don't know” Castiel sighs. He has been turning it over in his head this past week.  “He planned for us to find Bass. Maybe he is just getting cocky. What about you?” He needs to think about something else other than the case or Dean or his life.

“Well, I still can’t find something that will connect Milton with Asmodeus so…” she exhales loudly and crosses her hands.

“Can’t you give him a better name?” she chuckles at his expression.

“He calls himself that too, you know that.”

“Yes, but you didn't have to name the case Asmodeus, it reminds me of a bad name for an air freshener” he frowns a bit, shrugging.

“Air freshener? Seriously?” she asks laughing.

“He dresses in whites”

She dumps her shoulder against his and shakes her head.

“You know, sometimes I miss working with you” she says quietly and looking up at him with a soft smile.

“I miss working with you as well” he says sincerely. He misses Anna, she has a way with working cases that nobody else has.

“But you didn't like drug enforcement as much as homicides” she says softly, interrupting his thoughts, with a knowing look.

“How are you?” The question throws him off and he frowns at her titling his head. She has that tone, the one she used after Mick died, it makes something cold run down his spine.

“It’s just… You seem different, like something has change, I just can’t tell what” _or if it’s bad,_ she doesn't say but Castiel can hear it.

He takes a deep breath and a sip from his coffee, for a minute he doesn't know how to answer her question, his thoughts are a little fuzzy. He tries to get them in order and when he starts to speak he looks down at his cup.

“You know how I couldn't think it?” Castiel asks and he knows, she knows what he means. He takes another deep breath. “I can now. And it feels good and weird and freeing and sometimes I hate myself for it because… I was thinking about Dean and it felt good then. Everything feels good with Dean. But afterwards, when I got home, it was like, it came down to me, that I was- I don't know what. It was a feeling I can’t describe and then I felt guilty all over again.” He stops to take a breath and hopes that all that made sense. “It is tiring. One step, two steps back and I…” _am scared_. He doesn't say it, but he knows Anna can hear it.

“Did you talk with Crowley?” she asks after a few seconds.

“No, he is sick. I am seeing him next week”

“Castiel, I think that your problem-”

“Is me” he half asks, half says with a sad smile finally looking at her.

“It’s the fact that you never let yourself be happy. And you always did that, it not just because of what happened with Mick.” She says giving him a sympathetic look.

He exhales sharply and looks away from her.

“She called yesterday” he says neutrally, but his hands shake slightly and he can hear Anna take a sharp breath.

“Did you tell Gabe?” he shakes his head negatively.

“What did she want?”

“She asked how I was” he remembers the way his heart stopped and how stressed he felt when he heard her voice, it had to be at least 2 years since the last time he talked with his mother. He thinks about how he cried after the barely one-minute call and how he felt yet again something break inside him.

“You know she is…” Anna breaks him out of his thoughts and he sees the sadness and sympathy in her eyes and that she wants to say something, but can’t find the words. He gives her a tired smile. These are the moments he feels his love for her grow.

“I know she- I know she can’t understand or won’t understand some things. Or me. But she is still my mum”

“I know” she replies simply and leans her head against his shoulder. “You should come this Sunday for dinner, Gadreel is cooking” she says in a lighter tone. “Gabe will come”

“Ok, I’ll come” he chuckles and feels a warmth in his chest.

“You can ask Dean?” she has that teasing tone back in her voice and Castiel chuckles.

“It’s…”

“Complicated?”

“Yes”

“Mhm” Then her expression turns serious “I know you loved Mick, and I know a part of you still does, but maybe you should give this a shot, it can be a great thing.” He sighs “No, listen I am not just saying this because, it’s someone that’s interesting or is interested in _you_. It’s because of the look you get.”

He doesn't say anything for a while, he doesn't know what to say, that Dean doesn't want to, that for Dean he is just a detective that he sees sometimes and that's it? That no Dean isn’t interested in him and why would he? Dean is something so… Something Castiel fails to descried or is just too scared to put into words. In fact, Castiel is too scared to put his want into words.

“He is a prostitute” he says at last and then adds hastily. “I met him, when I went for information down town and then in the library and then we short of see each other at places.”

He sees as her eyes widen and her lips part slightly. She blinks at him after a few seconds and closes her mouth, swallowing.

“You are serious?” he nods bracing himself for an explosion or something from her.

“Well, as long as he is tested why not?” she shrugs and gives him a too innocent smile.

“Anna!”

“What? There is nothing wrong with prostitutes”

“No there isn’t.” he agrees. “But Dean is…” he sighs and shakes his head.

“The offer still stands for Sunday.”

He doesn't know if he will ask Dean, because he isn’t sure what he dreads more the question or the no that will follow. He just shakes his said and tells her he will think about it and they leave it to that.

 

 

 

X

 

 

 

Dean thinks about Singers’ auto shop for days. He considers going back and asking for a job, but he knows his chances of being hired are slim to none. Besides all he has is a high school diploma and he doesn't even want to think about work experience. So, he goes to the library and works and thinks about Cas.

He talks with Sam and that helps him a bit, at least the kid is doing great and he finally asked Jessica out. He tried to ask about Deans’ love life, but what he got was a “mind your own fucking business”, which in hindsight it was more incriminating, but Dean can’t bring himself to care anymore. Truth is he wants to tell Sam, but he doesn't know from where to grab it, it slips through his fingers every time. And it’s not like he can tell him that he wants a detective who is looking for someone who is killing prostitutes, that he met one time while he was on the job. Or maybe he can, but he can’t bear the disappointment and disgust from Sam.

And worst of all is Cas. Dean has never in his miserable life wanted someone like he wants him and he doesn't know how to handle it. So, he does what he does best, he avoids it as much as he can. Although most of the time it doesn't work and his thoughts drift, because that's all he will allow himself just thoughts, he doesn't want to think what all those things he gets, when he is around Cas mean.

Which is precisely why he is lying on his bed, naked trying to control his breathing. He reaches with his hand and takes a tissue wiping his hands as best as he can and then throws it somewhere at the feet of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly and tries to get the image of Cas out of his head, but fails miserably and the pleasure that he felt a minute ago, is giving room to the very knowing feeling of guilt that starts surfacing in his chest.

He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling frowning, he tries to remember when his fantasies turned into Cas, and how it was hard to think of the exact expression on his face, but now it is so different. Because now Dean knows Cas’ face. Knows his expressions, he knows just how he tilts his head on the side and frowns when he is confused or doesn't know something, or when he scrunches his nose at a greasy food Dean is probably eating or that small smile he gets when he eats that stupid yogurt that Dean still doesn't remember what’s in it or that melancholy that pools in his eyes sometimes and yes basically Dean is screwed.

A beep sounds and he startles, heart skipping a beat. He rolls his eyes at himself, he should be expecting it judging from what day it is, he searches for his phone blindly for a few seconds and takes it into his hands and unlocks it.

He reads the text and feels his muscles stiffen, he licks his lips and sits up, exhaling shakily. HHHHhe leaves the phone on the bed and walks to the bathroom. The water is not warm, but at least it’s not as cold as it was last week. He washes himself quickly, drying off and on last thought he washes his teeth as well. He avoids looking at himself in the mirror though.

He gets dressed and has enough time to make a sandwich, before bolting out the door. He sees Marv, the guy from across the hall, sitting in front of his own door and flashes him a smile out of habit, but he is way too out of it to register Dean.

He shakes his head and goes down the stairs and into the street, the cold breeze hits his face and it makes him feel good, more awake and alert. He eats the sandwich as he walks towards the direction the hotel is, and thankfully he knows where this one is.

He arrives with five minutes to spare, but he knows that _Tom_ , is already up there.

He knows the number of the room, so he just walks in and nods at the guy behind the counter, who just grunts something in reply, waving his hand and Dean resists pulling a face at the smoke surrounding the man’s space. They alternate between cheap and expensive hotels, but Dean doesn’t question it, he learnt not to question things a lot time ago.

He stops outside the door and takes a deep breath, which bad idea, because it smells of cigarettes and mould and he thinks he should be used of it by now.

He opens the door with a resolve he didn't know he had and sees Tom turn his face towards him. He is shirtless laying on the bed and when he sees Dean, he gives him one of his half smiles half smirks. Dean throws him a grin in reply, rolling his shoulders and closeing the door behind him.

He glances around the standard hotel room and his eyes land on the dresser next to him and sees the money rolled up. He walks and removes his jacket leaving it next to them and senses him walking next to him.

“How have you been?”

“Good”

It’s a thing they do, he asks Dean that question every time with the same tone and he replies the same way, with the same tone. It feels familiar in a way that makes Deans’ skin crawl.

They get undressed, almost methodically and Dean looks at him in that way they all like, as if he has been waiting for that moment all week.

They don't kiss, Dean doesn't kiss.

He moves at the head of the bed and Tom follows gazing down at him hungrily. He kisses his neck and chest a for a while, because Dean will allow him that and thinks about something else, like when he has to pay the rent or not to forget to send Sam the money tomorrow or that he desperately needs new shoes. He grunts and moans when he has to and adjust his breathing just so.

The first time they had done this, Tom had asked him if he got hard and Dean had said no, its not how this works, and they left it at that. But after a few weeks of doing this, he asked Dean if he could just for that time and after some coaxing and few extra bucks he agreed, just for that time. He had done it for one more, but that's when it ended, because then it didn't matter, it was before-

Dean stills and Tom looks up at him questioningly, but he just dismisses it with a shake of his head and smirks reaching for Toms’ dick. His fingertips teasing over the slit and the others’ man breath catches, before taking it into his hand. He starts jerking him and watches as he moans and throws his head back. And Dean moans encouragingly back at him. He doesn't talk, Tom doesn't like it.

He flicks his wrist in a way too familiar way and Toms’ hips move trying to match his rhythm. Dean kisses his neck and with his free hand reaches for the bottle of lube, opens it and coats two of his fingers and pushes them into himself. He is already loose from before, but he doesn't think about that, instead he works up a third finger and then a fourth. Ignoring the hungry look Tom gives him and the hands on him.

Tom falls next to him and Dean catches on, sitting up. He takes a condom from the bedside table and rolls it on Tom, positioning himself and slides down slowly.

He rolls his hips and starts singing in his head over the hills and far away, drowning out the sounds coming from the man under him, but doesn't forget to participate in making sounds as well. He feels the hands on his hips tighten and after a while he feels Toms’ movements getting sloppier and then he stills, a grunt leaving his mouth and Dean can feel his cock pulsing and emptying inside the condom and sighs.

Dean moves and lays next to him listening as his breathing evens out and feels nothing, he never does.

When Toms’ breathing is back to normal, Dean gets up and goes to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He showers a second time today, but now the water is hot and Dean sighs under it, his muscles relaxing. He is fast but not too fast, he doesn't like staying for longer than he has to, besides they didn't agree for a second time tonight. He rests his head on the tiles breathing deeply for a moment before turning the water off.

He walks out and sees Tom glance up at him, before turning his gaze down and starts typing something on his phone. Dean gets dressed and even though he is aware of the eyes watching him, he does so without being in a hurry. Still there is a part of him that wants to turn around and tell him to get lost.

He puts the money in his wallet and turns towards the bed. Tom smiles at him and he smiles back at him, slow and relaxed and fake.

“Until next time” he appears as if he wants to add something but stays silent.

Dean nods in reply and walks out past, the smelly corridors and the man on the counter. He puts his hands in his pockets, because now it’s really cold and looks down as he walks, back towards his apartment.

He hears the voices of drunk people on his left and wrinkles his nose, no that he is one to judge, still. He thoughts are drifting going all over the place he thinks about Sam and dad and tries not feel guilty about either. But his mind stops at dad, and the state of his body when they called him to identify him and he has to stop walking or he’ll hurl.

He runs a hand through his face and sighs. Getting rid of the thoughts. He starts walking again, and this time his mind goes towards Cas, which isn’t that surprising. He thinks about his hands and his voice and something in his chest tightens.

He looks up at the sky and has a wild thought that he immediately discards. And then everything happens slowly and fast at the same time.

There are lights and voices and then darkness.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Dean is annoyed and nervous and embarrassed and he has rolled his eyes so many times he is sure he is going to develop an eye problem.

He pushes himself a little deeper into the pillows and sighs softly at the man in front of him, who has been apologising to him for the last five minutes. Dean had tried to interrupt him, but he was determined to finish his long apology. Which Dean can understand, when he was nineteen, he had almost hit someone with Baby, but he was more nervous about what dad was going to say than anything else and he doesn't want to think what that means. So, he lets the man do his thing and just lays on the hospital bed and waits. Not that he can leave, he tried.

“Man, really it’s fine. I wasn't looking where I was going” he says trying to ease him and making him stop rambling, and ok he doesn't remember his name but whatever, he has been too busy trying to keep up with all the things the nurses and doc have been telling him and doing. He hates been poked and touched like this. “You didn't even touch me with the car”

“I did” Dean rolls his eyes.

“I am fine” he repeats emphasizing it.

“But I should have been paying attention, instead of-” the nurse, Hael, opens the door interrupting him.

“Everything alright?” she raises her eyebrows at the man in question, who takes a step back in reflex and nods, looking him up and down.

“Yes”

Dean gives her a tight smile, which she doesn't return and moves to stand next to him and check some stuff on the machine and all the other shit, that he doesn't know the name of, nor does he want to know. He just wants to leave, because one he hates hospitals and two he has no insurance. They haven’t figure that out yet, or the fake ID and he hopes he will be out of here before they do.

“Everything looks fine.” She gives him a smile and Dean knows exactly what she thinks and fine, he gets it he hasn't exactly been an easy patient but whatever. And of course everything is fine, because Dean is a dumpass, he wasn't actually-

And then the door opens with a loud thump at the wall, making everyone jump. Dean turns his head, and that beep sound coming from the machine is because he got scared from the door.

Castiels eyes meet his and Dean can see his chest moving up and down as if he run here. _Why is he here?_

“Excuse me, we want those doors” the nurse says sternly and glares at him, but Cas isn’t paying any attention to her.

“Apologies” he says with indifference and walks towards Dean, making him shift his eyes and start picking on the blanket.

“Are you relatives?” she asks with annoyance, crossing her arms.

“Why are you here?” Dean asks him, still not looking at him

“They called me. Saying there was a _John Entwistle_ ” and Dean can here the eyeroll in his voice “at the hospital, who had my card and I was the only contact they had”

Dean can feel himself blush and shifts in the bed, he _so_ hates this. He can see Cas raise his hand, as if to touch him, but he stops his hand in mid air before he pulls it back to his side.

“Who are you?” the nurse asks louder this time, as if they hadn’t heard hear her before, frowning at them.

“Detective Castiel Novak” Now Dean does roll his eyes, and hears him clear his throat and glances at him. He is scowling down at him and there is annoyance in his eyes and worry, and Dean hunches a bit, he hates that he put it there.

“It was an accident!” the man from before exclaims. “I didn't mean to, I-”

“I know” Cas says, surprisingly calm for the way he looks and turns towards the man “You are not in trouble”

The man opens his mouth like he is about to start apologising again but Cas interrupts him, with a tone that it’s both soft and commanding and it makes Dean feel warm and blush harder. “Really everything is fine. You should call someone to take you home, and just relax. Ok?”

The man nods, thanks him and apologises to Dean again and telling him to call if anything goes wrong, before leaving.

“I’ll call doctor Kelly” Hael says giving them a look and huffing on the way out.

There is a tense silence after she leaves and even though he is breathing Dean feels like he is holding his breath, maybe it's the way Cas is looking at him.

“How are you, _John_?” he says eventually and his face is serious but his eyes hold an amusement Dean hardly ever sees in them.

“Shut up” he grumbles, looking at his hands again.

“You know forgery is illegal”

“Will you arrest me?” he asks and gives him a grin, that soon vanishes when he sees Cas expression. “Cas-”

“They-” he exhales and turns his head at the ceiling worrying his lip between his teeth.

“I am fine” he says softly, even though he has been saying that all night and almost all morning. Cas looks at him with such intensity that Dean feels it to his soul.

“I thought you- I thought it was” he looks away again and Dean knows what he means and freezes, his blood running cold.

He wants to reach out and touch him so bad, he almost makes a noise of frustration. Instead, he crosses his arms and looks up at Cas “The car didn't even touch me”

“I know.” He looks back down at him and adds quietly. “You should be taking better care of yourself”

Dean feels like he should be angry at that, but with the way Cas is looking at him with so much worry and care, he can’t bring himself to say anything. It’s too much and it has been too long. He swallows.

“They should have just let me go when I woke up. It wasn't anything serious” he says annoyance sipping into his voice.

“It was, _is_ serious” Cas says frowning at him and Dean feels a bit like a scowled child.

“Oh, God I just-” he looks to the side and tries, in vain, not to blush in embarrassment. “I just fainted”

“Because you haven’t been eating properly. Or just eating”

“What do you want from me?” Dean exclaims turning to look at Cas.

And alright it’s true. He hasn't had a proper meal in weeks, but Sam needs the money and Dean needs a roof above his head, because he _can’t_ go leaving on the streets again, so food had come third, so what? He is fine, has lost a bit of weight but it’s not a problem.

“Dean malnutrition-”

“Don't, just don't” his eyes water and he hates himself so much for it.

Thankfully the door opens yet again and Dean never felt as relived to see the doctor walk in. He glances at her and then turns his gaze towards the window.

“Hello-” she freezes for a moment and Dean can see from the corner of his eyes Cas doing the same thing, but then she gives them a tight smile and walks to the end of the bed and stands there stiffly.

“Castiel” she says, the names rolling weirdly in her mouth.

“April” his voice is neutral and so is his body language, but Dean can see just a hint of uneasiness, just a bit of tightness in his shoulders. He frowns slightly.

“So, Mr Entwistle, looks like you can go” she says with cheeriness in her voice that it’s a little off putting.

“Thank fuck” he mutters, but she hears him anyway and gives him a disapproving glance.

“Just make sure you watch your diet. You need to eat. Full meals, vegetables and fruits as well. I understand that you may be… busy” Dean barely catches himself from rolling his eyes at her “and neglecting your diet, maybe skipping a meal or two, for months, but it can’t go on. Malnutrition is dangerous, ok? I will give you a meal plan before you leave, follow it”

Dean just nods, because really that's all he can do and that seems to satisfy her. He has already heard that and more from Rowena, but it’s not like he can do anything at the moment. Besides in a while, hopefully, everything will go back to the way it was before. Or maybe he will have to expand his hours.

“Is there someone who can pick you up?”

“I will” Cas says, and Dean turns to look at him and feels a warmth spreading in his body and he needs to get a grip.

“Right” Dr Kelly, or _April_ says. “I will get the papers ready. It was good to see you Castiel” She is a terrible liar.

“You too”

She gives them another tight smile and leaves.

“Well that was awkward” Dean says and asks, feigning nonchalance. “How do you know each other?”

“She is a” he stops and looks so uncomfortable Dean almost takes pity in him, but now he really wants to know.

“What?” he asks and the glare he receives makes him want to laugh. Cas rolls his eyes and exhales.

“She was a really bad date, set up by my brother” he says at last with exasperation and Dean knows him well enough to know there is more to this story, than just a bad date.

“That's it?”

“A really _really_ bad date”

“What happened?”

Cas clears his throat. “Where are your clothes?” His eyes search around the room, until he spots them on a chair and walks towards it.

“Cas?” he drags the name and gives him a devilish smile.

Cas turns around and disposes the clothes at the end of the bed.

“I will be outside”

“What happened?”

“We are not talking about it” he says and walks towards the door.

“Oh, come on, I am sick”

“Get dressed Dean”

He laughs when the door closes and rests his head against the pillows for a moment and just breaths.

After the nurse checks on him and removes everything from his body and he is standing in the hallway with Castiel, because no he isn’t using a wheelchair, he can walk, and annoying Hael is great, he is handed with the discharged papers. He goes to sign them when Castiel takes them from his hands and signs them, giving them back to the woman behind the counter with a small smile and a nod.

“What are you doing?” he demands, crossing his arms.

“They are in my name.” he replies like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Dean stares at him dumbfound and Castiel sighs.

“The hospital is my dads’” he says simply and Dean continues to stare at him with his mouth slightly open, before he snaps out of it.  

“What?” he croaks.

“The hospital-”

“No, I heard. I mean why did you…?”

“You are not John Entwistle-”

“Obviously”

“and I talked with him and everything is taken care of. Can we go now?” he says and without waiting for a reply, starts to walk towards the exit. Dean watches him for a moment before following him outside.

“Wait, is he here? Your dad?” his skin stings from the sudden change of temperature and he walks faster coming next to Cas, who has a small frown in his face.

“Yes”

“Right”

They walk towards the parking lot, and as they reach the car Dean cracks.

“He doesn't mind?” he voice sounds weird in his ears, but he ignores it. He doesn't like this, he doesn't like letting others do things for him, especially when he can deal on his own or they are this big. And he doesn't even want to think about Cas’ dad. Not even a little bit.

“Hm?” Cas raises his eyebrows in question, as he unlocks the car.

“Your dad?”

“No, I explained to him the situation and he- he agreed” he says and slips inside the car, making Dean roll his eyes. _He agreed to what?_

He curses and gets into the car.

“To what? He agreed to what?” he asks, there is a lump in his throat that he is desperately trying to swallow through it.

“Don't worry.” Cas says and starts the car.

“Don't worry.” He repeats sarcastically, putting on his seatbelt.

“Everything is going to be fine”

“I am expected to believe that he just casually helped a prostitute with a fake ID?”

“Yes.” Cas glances at him and adds. “He trusts me”

Which ok, but still it’s weird and it makes Dean feel weird and small and-

“You know, you should learn to accept help”

Dean presses his lips in a tight line and doesn't say anything to that, it brings up a lot of _conversations_ they had about him and help or whatever. After a while, he gets restless from sitting in that silence and reaches and turns on the radio, which of course is in a classical station. He huffs and hears Cas chuckles, before changing it until he finds something he likes.

After a minute he says “That's not help” _I don't want your help_. Deep down he knows that thought is a lie, still it makes him feel a little more comfortable, but at the same time, he feels like a liar.  Which he is, but when it comes to Cas, he finds himself unwilling to lie or it has a certain wrongness to it Dean can’t wrap his head around. He needs to get his head straight, realise that whatever this is, is temporary and it’s not good for him, however it makes him feel. Or however much Dean wants to kid himself.

“You don't have insurance” Dean bites his tongue so he doesn't have to respond. He hears Cas sigh and turns to look at him. “It’s not a big deal, trust me”

“I do trust you” the words surprise him, but he covers it with clearing his throat. “It’s just…”

“Stop thinking about it, it’s over and done with”

Dean scrunches his nose in response and turns his head staring out the window. He drums his fingers against his thigh to the rhythm of the song and watches the streets they pass. He doesn't come at this part of town, people like him don't belong here. Everything is too _clean_. He swallows thickly at that and shifts a bit in his seat. There is an itch in his hands, his skin, that he can’t quite place and it’s bothering him. He feels confused and vulnerable and he wants- he swallows and tries to focus on Bod Dylan.

The thing with Cas is that silences have meanings, meanings Dean didn't think they had before and it scares him, probably not as much as it should. But they also make him feel like he, like he belongs, even the tense and angry ones. It’s a strange feeling, one Dean isn’t sure if he will ever get used to. Maybe in time.

After a few minutes he asks, turning to look at Cas because he hates himself “Where are we going?”

“I figured you are hungry” it’s his response through a small smile, and then more hesitantly he adds “My brother, Gabriel, he owns a bakery around here. I know it’s not real food, but” he half shrugs, troughing him a sheepish look.

“Ok, one baked goods _are_ real food” he pointedly ignores the roll of eyes “and two does your family own everything?” that makes Cas laugh.

“My family doesn't own everything.” he says with amusement. “Just-“

“A hospital and a bakery”

Cas chuckles and shakes his head. He stops the car in front of a shop, painted an obnoxious yellow with a sign saying “Angels’ Food”. He hears Cas getting out of the car, and he remembers to follow him out.

“Ok” he hears him say under his breath and Dean gives him a funny look, but Cas isn’t paying any attention to him or if he does he didn't care, cause he is walking towards the baker and getting inside. Dean rolls his eyes and follows him in.

God, it smells like heaven. He looks at the display, and swallows, he could eat everything, like everything in here, even those fruit bars on top of the counter next to Cas. He absentmindedly licks his lips and moves towards him and nudges him with his shoulder.

“Dude, you got to stop doing that”

“What?” he asks oblivious and titling his head.

“What do you mean what? Walking away from me.” Ok that's not the best way to word it, but before he can save it, or really embarrass himself further, Cas sends him an apologetic look.

“Sorry”

“Ok. Now why haven’t we come here sooner.” He says turning to look at all the delicious food, he is sure he looks like a kid on Christmas morning, but he can’t bring himself to care. The only thing that has been in his stomach this morning, is hospital food. “This place is awesome” he moves and eyes at the stuck of cookies and wonders if they make pie.

“Castiel!” Dean turns at the source of the cheery exclaim and sees a short brown-haired guy smiling at Cas knowingly and with mirth.

“Hello, Gabriel”

“I’d ask how you are, but I already know” he says with a tone that Dean can’t identify and places a tray of what appears to be blueberry muffins on the counter.

Cas rolls his eyes, but he can see the fondness behind it. It’s the same way Sam does it to Dean.

“I am fine” he responds anyways and Gabriel turns his eyes towards Dean. He suddenly feels naked and exposed and rolls his shoulders, trying to relax. “And the guy you ditched us for”

“I’m Dean” he says even though he knows, Gabriel remembers his name from when they first met.

“I know” he responds and glances at Castiel, before turning his eyes back to him. “What can I do for you?”

“We-”

“Do you have pies?” he interrupts whatever Cas was going to say and he nudges him, but Dean ignores him.

“Sorry, no. They are the first to go, but we have some amazing cheesecakes” he says motioning with his hand. Dean hums in disappointment and Cas clears his throat.

“It’s alright. We will have muffins” Cas says, and Dean grimaces at him. “Besides, what you should really be eating is a salad or better yet a fruit salad, like the doctor said”

“Pies have fruits, and do you really want to talk about _doctor Kelly_ ” Gabriel snickers and Cas glares at both of them.

“That's not classified as fruit and vegetables”

“It has fruits in it.” he says and motions to the blueberry muffins “But I’ll have a chocolate one”

Gabriel is staring at them amused and sizing Dean up and he tries to ignore it. He chuckles at them and then gives Cas a look, that Dean again can’t read and moves to retrieve a chocolate muffin. And though understandable, he feels a little left out with their silent conversations, but he doesn't let it get to him much.

“I’ll have a chocolate one too” Cas tells him and Dean hides his smile by turning around to look at the cakes behind them.

Gabriel hands the paper bag to Cas. “It’s on the house, since it’s you and lover boy”

Dean splutters and coughs, turning around with wide eyes, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, cause what the hell? Cas just takes the bag and sighs exasperated. “Thank you Gabe, I’ll see you later”

“Sunday, you mean” Dean see him freeze, before regaining his composure.

“Yes, Sunday” Dean looks at him questioningly, but Cas just shakes his head, walking out of the shop. Dean turns to look at Gabe, who just shrugs smirking at him.

“Thanks for the muffins” Dean says, a little awkwardly.

“It’s fine Dean-o” he says simply, sizing him up. Dean nods and moves towards the door, when he reaches it Gabriel speaks again.

“Hurt him and I’ll hunt you down”

Dean swallows, at the tone and words, and turns his head to look at him. They just stare at each other and Dean nods – he doesn't know what for – just barely and leaves.

He opens the car door and takes the paper bag Cas has left in his seat, before sitting down and closes the door with a bit more force than necessary. Cas starts driving and says “Whatever he told you please ignore it”

Dean smiles softly at him and Cas turns to look at him.

“What?”

“Nothing” Dean says shaking his head.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while, (a long while), it's just November was incredibly incredibly busy for me.  
> Anyways, hope you liked it. I know you were worried about Dean, but nothing will happen to him (for now). Hopefully, I will put the next chapter by the end of this week :)


	12. Chapter 12

The rest of the drive passes in a familiar comfortable silence and Dean basks in it. He is relaxed and has a barely there smile, he feels content and full, with a sense of security, something he always feels next to Cas. It’s like letting the sun shine in your face after a period of clouds and he is being oversentimental, but fuck it, his emotions are all over the place lately he can enjoy a moment of peace. Cas is next to him tapping his fingers on the steering wheel lazily, absentmindedly, half listening to the song at the radio and Dean has to consciously look away after every few seconds. It’s pleasant, everything blur together and before long they turn down a street Dean doesn't recognise, no surprise there, and the car slows down, until they reach the front of a house. It’s a nice, standard suburban american house, big and white, with a fucking _porch_ and Dean can’t help but swallow and fidget in his seat, something simmering in his stomach looking at the building. His mood changes so suddenly, that he feels a buzz in his head. He frowns, working his lower lip between his teeth and clasping the paper bag in his hands tightly.  

The garage door opens and Cas parks the car inside. And Dean realises it’s Cas’ house. God, it’s _Cas’ house_. He goes rigid in his seat and tries not to hyperventilate.

They both don't make any move to leave the car, both frozen in their seats. It’s tense and awkward. Cas shifts in his seat and turns the engine off. He opens his mouth and closes it, he turns and looks at Dean helplessly.

“I didn't think this through, did I?” he sounds apologetic and lost and Dean takes pity in him. He exhales slowly through his nose, trying to fruitlessly calm himself.

“No.” he says hastily and briskly, then “Cas”, trying to sound unbothered, calm and probably failing. He cringes inwardly and hurries to add “Hey, it’s fine. Really.” It’s not, he is panicking so much. “I always wondered where you lived” at least that last part is true.

Cas releases a breath and leaves a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I am sorry”

“Don't be” he grins at him, despite himself, the muscles on his face feeling odd and Cas shakes his head and sighs.

They get out of the car and Cas unlocks a door, that Dean realises leads to the actual house and steps through. Dean watches him for a second, frozen in the threshold, before taking a hesitant step forward.

“Could you please close the door? Carmen likes to wonder off and-” Cas says, startling Dean and then stops turning around looking at Dean, titling his head. “You don't mind cats, do you?”

“Wha- Cats. No they are- I’m allergic” he says and shifts on his feet. He needs to relax, everything is going to be fine. He is just standing on a hallway in Cas’ house, no big deal.

“Oh, ok. Anna is allergic too, so I keep some antihistamines around” he says moving past Dean and into a door on his right. Dean watches him search the cabinets of a bathroom and tries to relax, taking deep breaths.

“You have a cat?” he manages to get out, eyes darting around the small hallway, not that there is anything to see, the walls are bare and there is just another door that's closed, further down the hallway, then the hallway stops and its an open space and on the other side the  hallway  continues and -

“Oh, yeah Carmen. I’ve forgot to tell you about her” he says thoughtfully, taking a box in his hands and turning towards him, giving Dean a small self-conscious smile. “I found her a year ago outside my door when she was a kitten and well, she decided she wanted to live here.” Dean nods, not knowing how to respond and follows Cas, as he walks towards, actually he doesn't know where Cas is going.

As they walk further into the house, he notices the open space, where on the left at the end, is the main door of the house and sees a stairway on the left, leading upstairs and swallows thickly. He follows Cas further on the hallway, and sees him turn right, in what Dean can see is the kitchen, but instead of following him he turns and looks around him. On the opposite side there is an opening and he can see a couch inside the room and nothing much from where he stands. He eyes dart around the hallway not that there is much to see  they are bare apart from two.

There is a painting, on the wall next to the kitchen door, of a diner, where a man drinks alone and there is another man and a woman further down the bar. He thinks he has seen it before, but can’t remember where.

It leaves a strange feeling in him, which doesn't help at all. He moves his weight between his feet and goes to cross his hands in his chest, but realises he is holding the bag with the muffins and stops, dropping them back on his sides awkwardly. There is feeling, a too knowing feeling, creeping in his chest. He feels like a stranger, a tainted stranger that is invading a place he shouldn't even pass outside from. He hears Cas in the kitchen, and he is everywhere and he is good and clean and is Dean is just a mess. He feels like he is dirtying the place, which is irrational, because Dean is- he swallows thickly. It reminds him of how different he and Cas are and how ridiculous Cas is for pretending it’s otherwise and how much of a foul Dean is for indulging him. They are both idiots, but there is a burning want inside him, that might burn him alive and the thing is, Dean can be very self-destructive.

He shakes his head slightly and focuses on listening to Cas moving around in the kitchen and he turns to look at the opposite wall. There are photos of Cas, and Dean smiles faintly, the tension on his back easing a bit. He is certain they are Anna’s doing, from what he knows about her and her hobbies.

He sees Cas with Gabe and Anna, at a garden laughing at something, it’s such a rare expression on Cas face and Dean feels something, a kin to an insect, erupt in his stomach. He looks at another one with just Gabe and him, and another with him, Anna and a man he doesn't recognise. An old one, that is Cas and a woman at a beach, somewhere. There is another next to that, with a blonde guy who wears an obscene V shirt. One with Cas and, what assumes Dean is, Carmen laying on top off him, in an old couch (he realises it’s the one he saw before), that looks like it needs be thrown away yesterday, not that Dean can judge. They look comfortable and _warm_ and Dean feels like a stranger. The last one is Cas with an older man that has similar eyes as him, but not as blue as his. He doesn't think anyone has Cas’ eyes.

“My dad” comes the explanation from behind him and Dean turns his head to look at Cas. He looks at Dean with an unreadable expression on his face, before he goes into the kitchen again. There isn’t one with his mum and Dean doesn't ask, family can be a sore subject, he knows better than most.

He sighs softly and follows him. He stands at the threshold and takes everything in. The kitchen is large and open and grey and Dean loves it. He knows Cas doesn't cook, or he does, he just hates it and he can’t help but think it's a shame with a kitchen like that. His eyes land on Cas, who is watching him and he feels a part of his previous thoughts and weight leave him, even if Cas’ eyes seem to bore into him. He is used to it by now.

“I knew you’d like the kitchen” he says with a smirk, rolling his shoulders. He is nervous too, Dean realises and somehow that makes him relax and not feel totally helpless. He is not alone in this.

Dean presses his lips. “Yeah, well it’s passable” _not that my standards are high._

Cas smiles at him, open and Dean can’t help but mirror it. “Tea?”

“I’m more of a coffee guy, but sure” he says shrugging, moving further into the room and placing the bag on the counter.

There are pots, with herbs at the window, because even though Cas doesn't cook, he likes plants, something that Dean discovered with great amusement and a somewhat strange, but educationally conversation about nature. He looks at the counter next to him, where various objects are left there, a contrast to the rest spotless kitchen. He sees a photograph among them. It’s Cas and another man, who has a hand behind Cas’ shoulders. Cas is young there, early twenties, like with the woman on the beach. They are both smiling, Cas has his eyes close and he head is titled backwards a bit. He looks happy and so much different than the Cas standing in the kitchen with him. He touches the edge of it carefully, and swallows. There is something he-

“Who’s that?” he asks, but half way through he knows the answer.

“Mick” Dean winces a bit, withdrawing his hand from it, as if the photograph burned him. He knows about him, well not knows _knows_ , just the important part, like the fact that he is dead.

They were at the library, when Dean had said something about Sam and law school and they talked about the D.A., when Cas mentioned him. Dean had never saw him look like that, so sad and _haunted_. He absolutely hated it, and everything that made him look like that and even though he wanted to know more he didn't say anything, he didn't know if he could handle what Cas had to say.

There is a chuckle behind him, making him turn.

“What?” Castiel is looking at him with a certain amusement in his eyes and Dean doesn't know what to expect.

“Dean, it’s fine, you- It’s fine” _is it though?_ Dean isn’t sure. “Dean, it has been nearly three years. I am” he smiles, albeit a little sad and presses his lips together. “I’m better. Not fine, I still have some road ahead of me, but really there is no need to look at me like that”

Dean averts his gaze “I’m sorry”, and he is not just apologizing for the look he was giving him.

“Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry for”

He coughs, because the air is going to suffocate him. “So where is the tea?”

Castiel shots him a knowing look “What kind do you want?” He raises his eyebrows and Cas chuckles.

“There is green tea, black tea, green tea with mint, lavender, black with bitter almond flavour, cinnamon-”

“Black” he says interrupting him, because honestly to Dean they are all plant water. Cas squints and tilts his head to the side.

“I will give you the black with bitter almond, Gabriel brought it from Paris a month ago and it has become my favourite” he says decisively and opens a cabinet getting a container out.

When everything is ready and they are sitting in the living room or at least what Cas calls it. All it has is that old couch, a small table in the middle, that's a bit wobbly, a bookshelf on the wall filled with books and a TV.

“Wow, didn't know you were a… minimalist.” He says with amusement and takes a bite off the muffin. God, he is starving and Gabriel may have just ruined all other muffins for Dean, apart from the ones’ Benny makes, the raspberry ones, not that Dean will ever admit liking those.

Cas shoots him a glare “I just never, felt like decorating the living room,” Dean raises his eyebrows, “or the dining room, or… much of the house. The office is full though” he sounds defeated and there is s certain kind of longing in his voice, that Dean doesn't necessarily understand, but it’s fine. He softens.

“Hey, it’s alright. All in time, right?”

“Yes” he takes a sip from his tea, with no sugar or honey, because _it tastes better this way_. “I never thought I’d live in a house. I mean I wanted to get this house, even if it's a little big for me, it's the only one I liked from when I was looking to buy. But I don't know, I- sometimes I get scared.”

Dean knows he didn't mean to say the last part out loud and because he is an idiot, he scouts closer to him on the couch, but still keeping a respectable distance between them, and asks. “Of what?”

“Permanency, or the absence of it” he says and looks up at Dean. “and loneliness” this conversation is getting heavier than Dean expected. “I mean, I like living alone. It’s just sometimes, I get this feeling, like I will _need_ to move out”

“I understand” and Dean did understand, because its not about the house, and they both know it. Most of all he understands that fear of needing to leave, not that he knows where he will go, but that is not the scary part. Is this thing, that finds him sometimes unexpectedly, that tells him he doesn't belong, that he won’t be missed once he stops being useful, that eventually he will need to leave because he is simply taking too much space.  

They finish their muffins and tea and Dean has to admit, to himself, it’s kind of nice. Then Cas shows him the office and Dean may have to live there for the rest of his life, because Cas has a lot of books, like a lot of books and some in different languages. And he knew Cas spoke French, but apparently, he knows more languages.

He is browsing the shelves, when he sees them. A bunch of history of art books and text books. Dean frowns, picking up one and turning to look at Cas who, when realises what Dean is holding flushes, ducking his head.

“Those are um” he starts and looks up at Dean with round eyes.

When he doesn't continue. “Are what? You are an art enthusiast?”

“No, well yes. I love art” he says and walks, so he is standing just a few steps in front of Dean and touches the book, smiling faintly. “I-” he looses his voice for a moment and tries again. “I studied art history at university”

“What?” Dean says surprised. Because today is revelation day apparently.

“I went to Yale” he says quietly, like Dean would judge him for that or something.

“Yale” Dean repeats dumbly. God, what is he doing here?

“Shut up” Cas grumbles moving closer to him.

“I didn’t-”

“I know what you are thinking” he says and narrows his eyes, taking the books from Deans’ hands.

“And you studied history of art?” he asks instead.

“History of art and philosophy, actually”

“Right” Dean nods, still trying to wrap his mind around this new information. This new information, that makes him feel so much more stupid and why does he always go for people who are so out of his league, not that he has gone for someone in the last two years, or that they have graduated fucking Yale, but still.

“Dean” he says in that way of his and something unravels inside him like always when Cas says his name like that, and like always he has no idea what it is.

“So, how did you ended up being a detective?” he asks quietly, because he needs to move from the Yale thing.

“Well, I had a friend at university” he starts and moves even closer to Dean, putting the book back in the shelf. “Meg, she- she was the first person I met there and she was the one to encourage me to go on with my decision to study history of art. See, I was supposed to study law, that's what my mother wanted, follow her foot steps and that's what Gabe had studied.” He continues leaning his back against the shelves and Dean watches him, willing himself not to ask anything. There is something in the otherwise neutral tone that Cas uses when talking about his mother, bitterness and melancholy maybe and something unfinished, that Dean recognises, knows.  

“Meg studied philosophy and she was, great, a bit brash, but she was my friend, my first real friend. She was the one that introduced me to Mick and to many things- A week after graduation, she was found died. Stabbed to death. They never found who did it” he stops for a few seconds, lost in his mind and Dean doesn't move. “It was a very difficult time for me. I hadn’t figured out exactly what I wanted to do. I had found a job at the art museum here and Mick was looking for a job and Gabriel was here with his shop, he had just opened. So, we decided to move here.”

“You didn't want to come back here” Dean concludes and Cas turns his head and stares in his eyes.

“No” he says softly. “It had too much stuff I wanted to leave behind at the time. But after a while I liked it. In fact, I started to love this place.” He sighs, shoulders dropping. “Anyways, Mick, he found a job at the DAs’ office and I realised I wanted to be involved. Just not as a lawyer. So, after some consideration, I applied at the academy, completed the training and I met Anna, when I was just an officer. She was working on a big case and I was recommended for an undercover investigation”

Dean raises is eyebrows at that and Cas chuckles, self-conscious. “They needed someone no one would recognise. We worked well together and I guess she saw a lot of potential and she needed people she could trust, she had just taken over the drug department. I worked with her for almost four years, when the detective for homicides resigned and I applied. And now I am here” he makes a gesture with his hand and looks at Dean with a smile, that is just in his eyes. Dean gives him a small tentative in return.

“Ok” he whispers. “Ok”

Castiel nods and whispers back. “Ok”

They are silent after that, Dean resumes browsing the shelves and Cas opens one of the books and sits in the chair behind the desk. Dean finds Fahrenheit 451, and even though he has read it two times now, he reasons a third isn’t going to hurt. He picks it up and turns seeing Cas engrossed in the book he is holding. He is just barely mouthing the words, like he always does, he looks peaceful and content. He, despite his absolute denial in the matter, lo- _likes_ looking at Cas when he reads, he has all those emotions in his face that come and go, it’s a bit fascinating. After a few more seconds of staring, he looks down at the book in his hands and goes to sit in the armchair. It’s soft and comfortable and Dean can feel himself relax and has the absurd urge to stretch out. Instead he rolls his shoulders, opens the book and reads.

 

When he feels a hand on his shoulder, he startles and raises his head in alarm. It takes him a moment to focus on Cas and when he does, he blinks and turns his eyes to the window, it’s then he realises it has gone dark outside. He flushes and raises his eyes to look at Cas.

“Sorry” his voice is scratchy, so he clears his throat and continues, “I’ll get out of your hair”. He closes the book and sits up straighter.

Cas shakes his head. “No, I just wanted to ask what do you want to eat”

Anything. He has been feeling hungry for some time now, but he isn’t gone to make Cas feed him too. The muffin is enough.

“No, really I-”

“Unless you want to leave, then fine. But if it’s for whatever other reason, you can eat with me”

And just like that Dean is blushing again. “Ok” he says and really, he needs to learn to say no to Cas. Not that he wants to. “What do you have?” And the smile Cas gives him is worth any discomfort.

“Nothing. You can see the catalogues in the kitchen”

Dean rolls his eyes, but doesn't fight his smile “I thought you were a healthy eater and I was suppose to eat healthily too”

“Shush”

“Pizza?”

It takes them fifteen minutes to decide on what pizza to get and another forty for the it to arrive and by the time, Dean is back to being completely relaxed and enjoying himself without restrains. He has taken a second pill, cause he can feel his nose twist and he feels like all the other times he is around Cas, lightheaded, heart beating fast and ridiculously happy and warm. And maybe, just maybe he doesn't want to leave.

He is being stupid, which is why he takes a bigger than necessary bite of his piece and turns his head away from Cas who, has moved the chair from behind the desk and in front of Dean, only a stool with the almost finished pizza placed on top of it, separating them.  He is laughing and he is relaxed and beautiful and Dean is helpless, not that he wants to be helped. He is in a dangerous territory, he knows, these things for people like him don't work out. But he wants this, wants Cas more than anything.

When they are done, they move silently in the kitchen, Dean with the empty box in his hands and Cas with the glasses and plates. He tells him where to through the box, as he starts washing the mugs from this noon. Dean stands next to him and watches his hands. When Cas finishes the first, he takes it and dries it with a towel, just so he has something to do and don't seem like a total creep staring at Cas’ hands. Same with the others. They don't talk, just stealing glances at each other. Dean feels young, like a teenager, not that he had time to do this when he was a teenager, he guesses that's why he enjoys it so much, even if it makes him nervous and his hands shake slightly. And for a moment it feels too much, he has an urge to cry, let it out somehow and he doesn't mind, not here. The thought makes his heart pound. However, he doesn't cry. He hears the ramble of a car pulling in a driveway and after bit a dog barking, he guesses a few houses away, he tries in vain to focus on that. He is much too charged with something to pay attention to anything other than Cas.

He doesn't know how long they are standing in the kitchen in silence and even though he is hyperaware of every little thing both of them do, he doesn't know who moves first. Maybe it’s him, but it doesn't matter cause Cas tastes like pizza and a far away dream and Dean is drunk. Too drunk to think. There are hands on him, his waist and the side of his face. And _oh_ , Cas kisses him like he is starving, like he never had anything like Dean. Like- like he was _waiting_ for Dean. And has been wanting this since, maybe the second time he saw Cas.

Someone makes a sound, could be him and he becomes aware that they are moving. They have left the kitchen, not that it matters. He doesn't know where they are going, he knows where he wants to go and he thinks Cas is going there too. And that alone ignites something in him and he wants, needs to touch more, hear more. Because, now he can hear Cas moaning and becomes painfully aware of his cock throbbing in his pants.

“Careful” Cas rasps, separating them for a moment. Dean frowns at him, he is gorgeous like that. Hair everywhere, eyes dark, wild, wanting, and lips red from all the kissing. “Stairs” and he is kissing him again and this time Dean knows he is the one moaning. “Behind you” he adds against his lips. Dean nods and it’s awkward cause he is still kissing Cas.

They make it two steps up, before they stop, realising they can’t climb the stairs while kissing. They are a step away from each other, catching their breaths. They move three more steps and Dean stares at his feet and thinks maybe he shouldn't be doing this.

They reach the landing, and it’s one more flight of stairs. Dean sighs softly, feeling the buzz under his skin and swallows, fingers itching to touch. Cas turns around and Dean raises his eyes and meets his. His breath becomes more elevated and Cas surges forward and kisses him. It’s heady and Dean wants more now. Cas bites his lip and Dean makes a sound at the back of his throat and steps backwards, detaching himself from Cas.

“Cas” he breaths, forgetting for a moment, then “Cas. We need, need” he is silenced by another kiss.

“I know” it’s more of a groan, than actual words, and even though Cas takes a step back, taking Dean with him, they start kissing again. And now Cas moves to his neck and Dean feels goosebumps rise all over his body.

“Please” he breathes, because he can’t take it anymore. He is going to burst.

Cas stops and stares at his eyes for a moment, before taking his hand, and Dean would have protest if he could think more clearly, and they climb the stairs.

He follows him down the corridor and they stop at a half-closed door. Dean sees Cas back tense and realises he is not the only one shaking. He squeezes his hand and after a few seconds Cas squeezes back. After a moment he turns around and stares at Dean with something that is gone in an instant. Cas sighs softly, and kisses him again. This time not as desperate. It’s deep and slow, and Dean loves kissing Cas. Especially on his neck, _there_ , where he makes that sound. He draws back and blinks. Cas grabs him from the back of his neck and kisses him again, and maybe he is not the only one that likes their kissing.

They move inside the room and Dean unbuttons Cas’ shirt all the way, because apparently at some point before he had started doing that and had pulled it out of his slacks as well. It becomes a bit of a problem when they are both trying to remove each other’s shirts at the same time. They have to stop and take them off themselves and then they are on each other again. Dean feels the bed behind his legs and instinctively falls back pulling Cas with him. Which was a bad idea because he wasn't expecting it and Dean ends up with a painful jab on his ribs and a muffled sorry. But it’s worth it cause when they move again, Dean feels Cas’ clothed cock rub against his own and they both swallow each other’s moans.

Cas moves his hips in circles making Dean throw his head back in pleasure. He feels him unbuttoning his jeans and opens his eyes.

“Cas” he rasps. Cas stops and raises his head to look at him, well that much Dean can tell. “Lights” he just says, cause he isn’t doing this in the dark.

“Right. Sorry” comes the response and he sounds absolutely wrecked and Dean shivers at the sound of his voice. He feels him, shift and lift himself and then there is light. Well not too much just the bedside lamp. But it’s enough.

Dean sits up and takes Cas face between his hands and kisses him hard and he is positive he has never kissed anyone so much before, hell he has never had so many kisses in his life. But it doesn't matter, cause Cas is divine and it is the only response to how the guy looks right now. Because yes Cas is hot, but Cas now, now he is the most beautiful thing Dean has ever seen.

They manage to take Deans’ jeans off and he moves his hand and removes his socks quickly throwing them away. Cas pushes him on his back and rubs his cock through his boxer briefs making him throw his head back and moan, trembling. When he opens his eyes, is to Cas looking down at him like he can’t believe what he is seeing, like he wants to devour Dean. It makes his heart beat in his chest impossible fast.

He reaches and removes Cas slacks and then he looks up at him, before removing his boxers as well. And it might be that it is Cas, but Dean never wanted to taste someone as much as he does now. He swallows, feeling his tongue heavy in his mouth and Cas makes a sound at the back of his throat, that has Dean look up at him. Cas deeps his head and kisses him, before moving lower kissing his way down, on his chest, his stomach, before he settles just above his boxers. He pulls them down just for the head to show and stops, moving between licking the head and kissing Deans’ belly, before Dean starts to groan and a breathless _Cas_ , leaves his mouth. Then, Cas finally removes his boxers.

And they are kissing again, cocks rubbing together and Dean explores with his hands and mouth and god Cas feels so good on top of him. He feels warm and wanted and like he is worth- He pulls away just barely, “Lube”, he says, cause he needs to go back to his feet, to what he can handle. “Drawer” is Cas response, before starting kissing Deans’ neck again, as if Dean knows which drawer.

“Whe-” he starts, but stop yelping slightly, his body moving forward a bit in response, cause Cas has his left nipple in his mouth and playing with the other one using his hand. He is shaking slightly and he can’t take it, he needs- his breaths are coming short now and his is panting.

“Cas” he manages. “Please” it’s an almost whine. And he feels his eyes water, for the overstimulation. Cas lifts his head to look at him and makes a humming noise. Before moving his mouth to his right nipple, and with his hand he lazily starts stroking Deans’ dick, making Dean stutter out a breath and bite his lip. He is such an asshole.

When he is satisfied and Dean is a mess, he gives him a peck on the lips, before he turns and opens the first drawer in the nightstand and retrieving a bottle of lube and a condom.

“That drawer.” He sounds far too composed and it takes a moment for Dean to catch up.

“Asshole” he mumbles and Cas laughs. “Shut up”

Cas moves between his legs and opens the bottle of lube, coating a finger. And finally, _finally_ he is circling Deans hole, before pushing just a bit and oh hell _no_.

“Cas. Cas come on. I can’t. No more”

And Cas the bastard, looks at him, like he doesn't know what is going on and asks “You want me to stop?”

Dean groans. “Man, come one I, I-” and now he can’t continue because Cas has pushed his finger in, all the way, making Deans’ breath hitch and he starts to move it. He is careful, Dean notes and warmth spreads through him.

“Asshole” he breathes once he is sure he can produce words. Cas just smiles and leans down and kisses him and Dean groans against his mouth and it feels good, so good.

He works a second finger in and then a third, before Dean feels that familiar feeling of pressure and waves of pleasure that follow it, he moans and Cas continues to press his fingers there in very other movement. He is panting, his dick leaking in his stomach and he can barely produce a coherent thought. Then Cas removes his fingers and Dean will never admit the whine that escapes him. Cas just leans down and kisses him slow, but not less hungry.

He pulls back and grabs a condom rolling it on and lubes himself up. He lines up and Dean moves his legs and hips to accommodate him and he finally pushes in. Dean closes his eyes at the feeling, it’s hot and he is stretched, feeling the heated throbbing flesh inside him and it’s past satisfaction or mere pleasure, it touches something Dean doesn't dare to think about. But something at the back of his mind whispers _complete_ , anyways. And if Dean was warm before, now he is burning.

Cas gasps above him, cursing and he slowly starts thrusting into him, picking up the pace gradually, until he is moving hard and fast. And Dean never really understood how much he wanted Cas until now. How this thing that flattered in his chest and up his throat threatening to suffocate him every time he looked at Cas, and that impossible pull that he felt towards him, is nothing compared to what is happening to him now. He feels drunk and dizzy and losing himself to the feeling of Cas on top of him, but there is an absolute clarity of everything around him as well. Dean moves to meet him, clenching around him and making him moan. There hands and mouths everywhere, and Cas props himself in one hand and with the other he takes Deans’ cock and start stroking him and Dean is lost.

Cas says something Dean doesn't catch, but it doesn't matter causes he is on top of him and Dean can touch him. He is solid and warm against him and Dean doesn't want this to end. But he feels the familiar heat pooling low in his gut, tightening with every thrust, every stroke and Cas moves above him like he has made it his mission to make Dean feel nothing but ecstasy and that alone is enough to through him over the edge. He comes with a gasp, spilling over Cas’ fingers and staring up at his eyes and Cas follows him with a moan, but his eyes shut. And Dean was wrong, about all the times he thought Cas couldn't be more beautiful, more just more of something he couldn't comprehend, couldn't word. He is absolutely beautifully divine.

He collapses on top of him and they stay like that for a few minutes. Cas breathing against his collarbone and him holding tightly. Cas lifts his head and kisses his neck, before moving away and out of him, and Dean barely catches the whimper escaping him. Cas gets up and takes the condom off, tying it and Dean watches him open on his left and turn the light on, on what he can see is a bathroom. He moves his eyes and stares up at the ceiling and finds he can’t move. There is pleasant buzz under his skin and he doesn't want to break the euphoria.

He feels a cloth wiping his stomach and he realises he has been drifting out. He feels Cas cleaning him, so delicately, tenderly even, it makes his eyes water and he has to blink back tears. It’s almost too much, being touched like this. He dares a glance up at Cas, who gives him a small hesitant, almost shy smile and Dean cannot help but smile at him open and dazed. And he can see him relax. When he is done, he goes to the bathroom to throw the towel and he returns switching the bathroom light off and it’s dim again, with just the yellow light from beside Deans’ head.  

Dean can’t help staring at him as he gets under the covers and after a moment, he follows him. It’s warm and soft and it smells like Cas. They turn on their sides, just staring at each other open, with no restrains, feet tangled.

“Dean”

“Mhm”

He watches as Cas opens his mouth and then close it.

“Wha’?” he asks, baring himself deeper into the mattress.

“Nothing.” Dean, narrows his eyes at him, but doesn't say anything. Cas doesn't look like he wants to say anything else either.

After a few minutes, or hours, when Cas’ eyes are fighting to stay open, and Dean throws him a smirk, earning a rather strong nudge on his calf, he rolls on his back, but makes sure that his legs are still touching Cas’, and turns the light off.

“’night, Cas” and it should be weird, but it isn’t and when Cas replies gruffly “Good night, Dean” something settles inside Dean making him sigh in content.

He hears Cas breathe beside him, his breaths becoming more even by the minute and he is dosing off, when he feels something painful push in his stomach. He grunts, his eyes flying open and so does his hand at the source of pain and he finds himself pushing at something… furry? He hears a hiss and Cas grumbling under his breath.

“Carmen” he growls, reaching with his hand and from what little he can make out, from the limited light coming from the closed curtains, sees him stroking Carmens’ head. “Be nice”, it’s said more softly.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you” Dean says, feeling a bit bashful. “She scared me is all”

“I wasn't all the way asleep. She climbed on top of you?”

“Yep”

Cas laughs softly, “Well, you are on her bed” Dean smiles at him even if Cas cant see him. He feels Carmen put one leg on his stomach and now he is prepared for the pressure and discomfort, then she settles on his chest. What he is not prepared of is the lick she gives him on his nose.

“If you don't want her that close, just push her off” Cas’ say and feels him shift, pulling the duvet higher.

Dean looks at Carmen, or at least her outline and tentatively starts to stroke her head and she starts to purr after a while, making Dean smile.

“Traitor” he hears a whisper next to him and he laughs softly.

When Carmen is satisfied, and that takes a while, she moves from on top of him and he feels her get settled somewhere between their feet. Cas is already snoring softly beside him and Dean closes his eyes and before long he is asleep too.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. I had 2/3 written when I posted the previous chapter, but well, life happened and I didn't have the time (or energy) to finish it until this week. Hopefully the next one isn't going to take this long, I'll really try. Thank you for reading and patience :)


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